


Between the two of us

by Ladate



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: All Of Them Are Jealous, Alpha Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Cheating, Could end with a Steve/Tony/Bucky relationship, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Heavy Angst, Jealousy, Knotting, Love Triangles, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Not Canon Compliant, Omega Steve Rogers, Or not, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pregnancy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Build, Smut, Sort Of, lots of jealousy, misundertandings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 08:31:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14209227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladate/pseuds/Ladate
Summary: Steve is a very modern and independent power Omega.Tony is a powerful high-ranked Alpha who can't keep it in his pants.Bucky doesn't really remember who he is.Somehow, when Steve insists to bring his best friend/ex lover to the Tower, it will drastically change the dynamics between the two of them. Or when Tony finds himself caught in between two super-soldiers.





	1. Bonding or not bonding?

**Author's Note:**

> So, my second A/B/O fic. Can't help it, I'm a sucker for Omega!Steve. I'm still lame at titles though.
> 
> It was mainly inspired by two great works:
> 
> The amazingly wonderfully absolutely fabulous must-read "Omega Rising" by SapphoAndAppollo  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/13137750/chapters/30051276
> 
> And
> 
> "Expect the unexpected" by JasperMoore that you can find here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/13482969/chapters/31455438
> 
> Just so you know, don't expect the same quality of writing. I'm a shitty writer and I don't speak English... (And this is unbeta'd)

_**Avengers Tower, November 2014**_

He is trying to muffle his moans and cries in the silk sheets of his Alpha's bed. The man behind him is pounding hard, his rough hands are clutching his waist with strength and vigor. His possessive fingers sink deeply into his flesh and hold him down. The older man fucks him so hard that Steve's body jerks forward at every thrusts. He's completely electrified. His Alpha owns him completely and pins him down. He could free himself and push him away if he wanted but then again, he can't really. Steve may be a super soldier but when his Alpha fucks him, he's just omega. He always surrenders. The strong scent is so powerful and overwhelming. His brain stops every time, his mind only focused on one thing: _please Alpha_.

His head buried in the pillows, the only thing Steve can hear is the clapping of his Alpha's thighs against his at each thrust. The older man grunts above him, pounding harder and faster, brushing his soft spot every time, sending electricity all over his body. Steve is burning inside, he can feel the sweat dripping down his spine. His own cock is painfully hard and dripping against his inner thigh. He wants release. He can't take it anymore it feels so good but it's so painful and frustrating at the same time. He's trying to lie his body down so he can rub himself against the bed. His Alpha won't let him. He knows it. He wiggles in the sheets, gripping them with strength, unable to stop himself from whimpering. He brings his fist in his mouth and bites it, trying to prevent his frustrated little whimpers from turning into long pathetic sobs.

Tony won't allow him to come other than on his thick cock. He keeps his hips in place with a strong grip. Steve is much stronger than him but somehow when they are mating, his Alpha develops an unusual strength which is enough to manhandle Steve and make him do exactly what he wants. Not that he needs to though. Steve is very happy to oblige. He lets his Alpha take control of him completely, relishing in the pleasure, getting intoxicated with the enslaving scent.

He's close. Tony buries his fingers deeper into his flesh, marking him with his fingernails and starts slow powerful thrusts while pressing his cock on Steve's soft spot. Now, Steve is crying loudly and shamelessly, he jerks his arms back to catch his Alpha's hips and pulls him deeper inside of him, as if it was possible. "Tonyyyyy...." 

It was the intention that mattered, Steve is very much eager to show his Alpha that he wants him. He was reluctant at the beginning, about expressing his pleasure, showing his desire. Now, he doesn't care anymore. He just wants his Alpha inside of him, filling him up, submitting him.

Tony is close too, he can feel it. He gives one last thrust and Steve comes in a long whimper, spending himself on the silk sheets. His entire body jerks and his mind goes blank for a second. It feels so good. Steve is a bit out of it for a moment, mind elsewhere, staring to the stars, body floating. It's just a moment but Steve would throw away everything, all his beliefs, for this moment. It doesn't last unfortunately and he quickly gets back to himself. Tony is still inside of him, pounding faster. His grip is hard and painful for Steve now that the pleasure-induced trance is fading away.

"Pull out" he asks softly, head still buried in the sheets. Tony fucks him hard and doesn't show any signs of pulling out anytime soon.

Steve pushes himself on his fists and straightens his back. He demands, louder. "PULL OUT!"

Too late, Tony jerks behind him and bends over Steve’s back. "Noo-umff"

His Alpha brings his hand to Steve's mouth and muffles his protest with a hard pressure of his right hand. The left holds him in position. When Steve is silent, the right hand slides on the side to grab his neck and forcefully pushes him into the pillows, pinning him down. 

Steve gives in and stops moving, catching his breath. He feels the growing cock spurting in his ass while Tony spends himself inside of him. He expands more and they're knotted. His Alpha is panting above him and he can feel his breath on his neck. He kisses him fiercely and nips at his skin.

He's going to _bite_ him.

Steve needs to prevent that. He pushes his head with a gentle hand and protests softly, at first. "Tony..." When the Alpha doesn't seem to budge he pushes harder and the voice is louder, tone reproachful. "TONY!" 

The Alpha finally snaps out of it. He sighs on Steve's shoulder in a disappointed pout. His whole body slumbers on top of Steve, he brings both his arms around him in a loving embrace and rests his head on Steve's nape. "Why?"

"You know why..."

Tony nuzzles against his neck, kissing him gently and he turns them both so they can lie down on their sides while they are still locked together. Steve let himself enjoy the loving and affectionate post-coital hug. He feels content and safe in his Alpha's arms even if he's never going to admit that.

He's long past pretending they're only fucking. He loves Tony and Tony knows it. Tony loves Steve too, Steve knows it all the same, even though they never said it. After two years, they have found perfect balance between their roles in the Avengers, their respective public figures and their relationship which is kept private, behind closed doors. Steve has stopped struggling against it. Tony is his Alpha, he knows that now and he is ready to submit to him in the privacy of their bedroom. That doesn't mean he would accept to be bonded. A bond is a commitment - an unbreakable chain - he is not ready to submit himself to. It is purely and simply slavery. A modern and intimate form of slavery. Steve is very much happy being independent and he is not about to give up his freedom for anybody. Not even his Alpha. A bonded omega is not his or her own person anymore. No matter how tolerant and indulgent their Alpha is, they will always be superior in the relationship. No matter how progressive the society may be, no matter how equal they could be regarding the law. Bonded Alpha and Omega can never be equals. It's biology.

Steve had proclaimed his freedom and his independence loud and clear back in the forties when Omegas where barely considered humans. He had claimed proudly he didn't need an Alpha and never would. He is not about to back out seventy years later when Omegas have finally reached equal rights and could live their life independently. He is not interested in settling down and live happily ever after with his family like a good Omega should. He is not that Omega and if Tony can't understand that he can fuck off.

So basically, Tony and Steve are mates, just not officially. They're not bonded and it works for them. They're equals. Steve is happy and fulfilled in this relationship even if sometimes they have to make sacrifices. It's part of who they are and he has accepted it. 

Steve hums and purrs softly in his Alpha's embrace, enjoying the warmth of his arms and the safety of his knot a little bit more before picking a fight. He won't deny it now. He loves it, being knotted. It the only time when he doesn't feel inadequate. This only times when he belongs. It's an illusion, he knows it -  _Hormones,_ but it doesn't mean he can't savor the moment with all his mind and body.

"I didn't want to knot." He finally says, softly, the words half-muffled by his Alpha's arm.

Tony fidgets behind him. "I thought you were on the pill." He answers, as some kind of justification. 

"I am, but it's not hundred percent safe. It's a trial. The tests are not completely conclusive yet. We can't risk a pregnancy, Tony."

"You'll abort it." His Alpha mutters against his neck. He's half asleep and clearly not interested in having that kind of conversation now. Well, bad for him, Steve is not about to let this go. He has a statement to make.

Steve doesn't want to get pregnant, absolutely not. Tony knows that. It doesn't mean that, if it ever happens, he could go through with an abortion. Actually, Steve is pretty sure he won't, so it's essential that they never need to resort to it. _And Tony knows that too_.

"I will pretend you didn't say that."

"Why are we even talking about it? You have like 3% chances to get pregnant out of your heats anyway."

"For a normal person maybe, but my heats are enhanced with the serum, so it might increase my fertility. Better be safe than sorry."

"Yeah, right." Tony spouted with a cynical tone. "And I'm pretty sure the tests are inconclusive too."

Steve sighs. Sometimes, Tony annoys him to the core when he's constantly insisting. It isn't the first time that Tony tries to bite mark him. It is a topic that comes back regularly, especially when Steve is focusing on finding Bucky. Somehow his Alpha is feeling threatened by his best friend, which is completely preposterous. Steve could keep reassuring him again and again but he decided long ago that it was not his responsibility to do so. Tony is a grown man and a powerful Alpha. If that isn't enough for him to feel secure in their relationship, then he should see someone. A professional. Steve doesn't have time for this, now that he knows Bucky is alive. He needs to find him and save him. If Tony loves him he should support him, not nag him and try to imprison him.

The Alpha thrusts his cock deep inside of him, earning a gasp followed by a whine of pleasure from Steve. He pushed one last time before going soft and finally freeing them both from the knot. Steve doesn't linger and get off bed, not losing precious time. He can feel the seeds of his Alpha dripping down his inner thighs. He turns to Tony and shows him an annoyed expression of disgust. Tony smirked. _He knows_. He knows that deep inside, Steve feels hot and delighted to have been granted that. Tony will pretend he believes him but he knows that deep inside, Steve only wanted to be used and dirtied and submitted.

That's how it works for them.

Tony throws his hands behind his head and crosses his legs on the bed, watching his cum dripping down Steve legs with a proud smug smile. He's still high in after sex bliss. His eyes are shining with Alpha dominance and Steve loses his stance for a moment, feeling self-conscious. For a moment he wants to crawl back into bed, into the safety and comfort of his Alpha's arms. For a moment he wants to let go, be spooned and protected and marked. Only for a short moment.

He's not that kind of Omega.

Tony sees the hesitation in his eyes. "I don't understand why you won't let me mark you." Steve blinks and looks away.

"Tony" he hisses with exasperation. "We had this conversation hundreds time. I don't want to bond."

"Why not?"

"Because... Tony. I told you already. I don't want to be bonded. I don't want to be your slave. Bonding is an archaic unfair conception of a relationship. It'll take away my own free will. I'd rather choose to be with you than being forced into it by my own body. Thank you."

Tony chuckles. He looks at Steve with those big eyes full of pride. Steve has always suspected that he actually likes that part of him. The untamed Omega. He feels self-conscious again.

"You're overthinking it. Bonding is beautiful. It's eternal. It's the highest commitment. The best gift I could grant you." Tony is saying this with such a pure honest expression that Steve almost kneels. Damn biology! He doesn't though. He remains standing, still, mouth half-open.

"Bonding is no less than enslaving a person." He finally says with a pout.

Tony doesn't answer. He looks hurt, as if Steve was telling him he doesn't trust him. Steve trusts Tony, deeply. It's himself that he doesn't trust. 

The pain in his heart is sharp. He didn't expect those rueful eyes to hurt so much. He looks away and wipes the cum off his legs, then he picks up his clothes. He won't shower so he'll smell like Tony a little bit longer. He starts getting dressed.

"I want you to be mine." The words resonate in the room. It's not a request, it's more like a plea.

"I _am_ yours." Steve replies instantly, the words choking out of his mouth.

"Not officially, no."

"What does it matter that people know? I know it. You know it. We don't need people acknowledging us and approving of our relationship to be happy together. We are enough. _This_ is enough."

"Why do I feel like you're ashamed of me?"

There is it. The word that Steve desperately wants to avoid. _Shame._  He's not ashamed of Tony but he is ashamed. He thought he'd be better than this. He thought he'd be able to live without an Alpha but the more they fuck and the more he becomes entranced, forgetting about everything he stands for. Tony has that effect on him and it scares him sometimes. 

"I'm not, Tony. I'm not." He tries to be reassuring but it comes out unsure, begging to be believed.

"Then what? Are you scared they will look at you differently if you're bonded?"

"I don't know... I just... I don't want people to know."

"I'm pretty sure everyone in the Tower knows by now." 

Probably, but suspecting and knowing is not the same. What will they think when they know? Will they trust his judgment? Will they follow his lead?

Steve puts his belt on. He's about to leave for his own floor.

"You could have stayed..." 

"I need to get up early tomorrow."

"Why? You're no longer working for SHIELD. There's no Avengers assignment either."

"Some things I need to do..."

"You mean like- finding Barnes?" Tony asks, tone bitter. Steve turns his head to look at him. "So that you can unbond him too?" Steve rolls his eyes. Stupid stupid Alpha who doesn't know anything. "Were you serving him the same bullshit when he fucked you?"

Steve doesn't even stoop to answer him. He just leaves, feeling as bitter and angry as his Alpha.

 


	2. This is in our nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you people for all the kudos and the encouraging comments! I hope this first chapter wasn't misleading.
> 
> I want to stress on the fact that this is going to be a long slow burn and very angsty fic. In case it wasn't clear enough in the tags.  
> I hope all of you stay onboard anyway!

**SHIELD Headquarters, June 2011**

"Is this a joke?"

Frankly, had he been anywhere other than a dark room full of armed SHIELD agents and surrounded with screens displaying quite disturbing classified images, he would have found that absolutely hilarious. He would have laughed even. He almost did, hysterically, but somehow the death stare of one murderously sexy Natalie -or Natasha, whatever her name was- and the one unimpressed eye of Director Fury had miraculously disinclined him to let out any kind of laugh, not even a slight chuckle. _Mood-killers._

He just gritted his teeth while trying to suppress the shaking of his hands. He could feel the lump growing in his throat. _Disappointment. Rejection. Uselessness_.

It didn't matter anymore. It didn't. _It shouldn't._

He shouldn't need anybody's approval or recognition, and certainly not from the likes of one haughty one-eyed gloomy secret spy.  He was a grown man. Accomplished. Successful. 

 _Still---_ _That stung_.

He had proved himself on so many levels and in so many fields, already. He had survived the worst. All that on his own. Granted, he had done some shit in the past but he'd turned his life around and finally did the right thing. If he thought about it, he had done more rights than wrongs in his life. Personally, he means. And he had done some pretty good things recently. Saving lives, ending a conflict. Surely that counted for something, right? He liked to think of himself as a hero. He was fucking Iron Man after all. People loved him. Okay, people loved Iron Man, not him, but he _was_ Iron Man, so hand in hand, it amounted to the same thing. Iron Man would be a great addition to this team. Not that he wanted to be part of it. Really. He didn't play well with others and frankly hated being given orders, so team play? Not for him. Definitely. not. for. him. But he would be amazing. Like, there wouldn't even be a real team if he wasn't part of it.

But no, apparently, it wasn't enough...

"Come on, Nick? Where are the cameras?" He asked as a bitter attempt at humor. "That's not even funny!" He grinned pathetically, trying to hide the distress growing in his limbs when he didn't get any reaction from either of them.

"I'm not amused, Stark." Fury snapped, expression more impatient than bothered.

"You're not approving of me because I dipped my dick in too many holes? That your reason? Excuse me for finding that just a little bit excessive."

"That's not what we said."

"Not specifically no, but you meant it all the same."

Fury sighed. "Just read the file."

There were two files on the table before him, one entitled  _Avengers Initiative: Preliminary Report,_ that Fury kept close to him like a guard dog with his bone, as if Tony didn't already know what it was. _If you thought I wouldn't keep my eyes on your little schemes, Jack Sparrow you thought wrong._  Fury slightly pushed a second file toward him. Tony went for the first one, obviously. You never know, there might be some details he wasn't able to hack...

"Not that one", Fury grunted, "I’m not sure it pertains to you anymore. Now this, on the other hand", he said with an interested tone and handed Tony the second file. "is Agent Romanoff’s assessment of you."

Tony took the file and opened it with an unconvinced gesture. What could there be in there that would justify their nonsense?

He started reading out loud without really thinking. "Personality overview. Mr Stark displays compulsive behavior.' In my own defence, that was last week. 'Prone to self-destructive tendencies.' I was dying. I mean, please. Aren’t we all? 'Textbook narcissism'? Agreed. 'Volatile, Self-obsessed, Individualistic' Okay, that's slightly over the board, but-- true. 'Unable to follow a schedule' Only when I don't want to. 'follows no-one's rules but his own.' I don't need to. I'm my own boss. Really?  This is ridiculous. 'Total incapacity to control his urges', 'has absolutely no control over his pheromones and has poor resistance to other's and therefore, indulges in inappropriate behavior and promiscuity' ... Wow." Tony closed the file and threw it on the table. Then he looked up at the redhead challengingly. "Seriously?"

She looked down on him, expression blank."You tried to get in on with me," Tony raised an eyebrow at her. "with your girlfriend in the room."

He raised his hands in protest and used his most offended voice. "That's wild accusation. Besides, Pepper and I are in a stable-ish relationship... Sort of--"

"You grabbed my ass." She insisted. "Twice."

"Come on. That was a joke." Tony protested defensively.

"Do I look like I'm laughing my ass out?" Fury interrupted, his one eyebrow raised in consternation.

"I call that sexual harassment." Romanov went on, accusingly. And boy, he didn't like that word, nor that tone the slightest.

The Redhead spy was glaring, standing perfectly still with her arms crossed, next to Fury who rolled his eye exasperatedly. 

"You almost broke my wrist." Tony whined. 

"You deserved that!" She snapped back.

Tony turned to Fury, ignoring the spy. "If this is what this is about, you seriously don't need to worry at all. There's _no way_  I would ever get close to her. Not ever." He said slowly while gritting his teeth in anger. "Anyway, isn't she the only woman in the team?" Fury and Romanov shared a confused look. A silent question hanging in the air. Romanov just shrugged. Ha! You didn't think I would know that! In your ass Fury! Tony felt good for a moment. "Besides, he went on, I don't do alphas" and when the spy frowned in disbelief he added "unless they're _really sexy_. But twisting my arms has definitely killed any sexy vibes from _her."_

"This isn't about Agent Romanov, Stark. I'm sure you've noticed she can take of herself." Fury explained, challengingly. "This isn't even about women. Even if you're a pig, and a drag, we know even you have a minimum sense of decency. More or less." He bent forward like he was going to reveal an important secret. "I'm talking _omega."_

Tony burst out laughing, frantically. 

An omega? What the fuck? An omega? All this fuss, about _an omega_? Is this another dimension? SHIELD Headquarters must be secretly hosting a wormhole. And on a seriously scary note, Tony did believe SHIELD would be crazy enough for something like that. But in what fucking world would a spy agency fucking care about an omega?

"Seriously, Nick? Come on, seriously. You're gonna say no, to me-- like-- you're gonna say no, to a genius, to  _Iron Man--_ for an Omega?" He bent slightly over the table to get closer to the director. "You're gonna pass on all that genius and awesomeness, so that you can keep an Omega in your secret party? You know, I'm just curious at what kind of party this is... Now, I really do wanna be part of it... but seriously, What could an omega bring to this team anyway? What could an omega bring to anything, period. Did you get some Captain America's seed frozen and you planning on knocking them up or something? Wait! Are they here to help us release some tension? That's bold! I didn't think you would be that kind of man. You know, I thought you'd have principles! But man, that is a great idea! Such a great idea... Why again am I not invited exactly?"

"We will pretend we never heard any of this coming out of your mouth." Fury said, clearly not amused, his face still as impassive as ever.

Tony was giggling nervously.  

"They're not any omega, Stark. They're powerful. A strong and vivid smell."

"And what would you know? You specialist on Alpha-Omega dynamics now?"

"I've been told."

"You do know that the Iron Man suit has air filter, right? None of you thought about that? I'm fairly disappointed frankly. I expected more of the two of you. I guess Natalie was not so great at trying to steal my datas."

The redhead twitched on her feet. Fury was still as unimpressed as ever.

"Let me be clear about this Mr Stark--"

"Oh I'm _Mister_ Stark, now. Am I?" Tony interrupted, sarcasm puked out of his mouth. "What an honor!"

Fury ignored him and went on. "We're as much worried about his reaction to your presence as yours to him."

"Oh. _Him..._ He's a he, now. Right. Is that supposed to make me feel better or something?"

He squinted a bit and pinched his lips with a serious face.

"Who is it anyway? Is it Barton?" He laughed again, harder. "What could Barton or anyone else possibly do that would justify kicking me off?

"Barton's beta, Stark. And yes, he's more important and valuable than ten fucking Iron men."

Tony was not offended. Not at all. Like he fucking cared what someone like Fury thought about him.

"When you stop being an intolerant ass and remove the primitive alpha-chauvinist shit from your eyes, you'd be surprised!"

Tony chuckled. "Well, clearly I'm not. Enlighten me. Who is it, this special omega? Now that you've stirred up my curiosity."

"That's classified." Romanov cut in. 

He raised his eyebrow and replied with unconcerned tone. "What's the point? I'll find out anyway, one way or the other."

"Could you really behave yourself around an omega, respect them enough to work with them?" Fury asked almost rhetorically and didn't even let him the chance to respond. Although, the way Tony rolled his eyes at this nonsense might have been enough of an answer for Fury. "That's what I thought." He finally said.

Tony sat back on his seat. He could feel judgement in that tone, the same judgement his beta father would cast him when he was around omegas, helpless, slave to their pheromones, unable to think clearly, completely giving in to instinct. He was just a kid then. Now he knew better, he'd grown up, but he could still see Howard's disgusted face looking at him. As if he was a mistake. As if he was an animal, a brute, a _pervert. A freak._ Like he could understand. Like anybody could understand, what it's like, to be an alpha and one as powerful as he was. _A fucking disappointment._ "You can't possibly understand Alpha instincts, Fury. We can't help it. This is in our Nature."

"Agent Romanov can."

"She's a _woman."_

"Gender has nothing to do with it. You're just a dick." The redhead snapped.

"That kind of offensive, sexist and intolerant comments is exactly why you're off the team, Stark." Fury added.

"Fine. Whatever." Tony pouted. "What am I doing here, then, if you don't approve of me? Not that I don't enjoy chitchatting with you guys. I mean, conversation with armed agents surrounding us" He spread his arms showing the room around them. "in _that_ kind of dreamlike environment has always been the light of my day. But, you know, good things always come to an end and I'm a very busy person with very important things to do. You know, like they say, time is money and mine is precious."

"Well, asides from being a major pain in my ass, you're also a genius, like you said, and we could really use your help, as a consultant."

Tony abruptly stood up and laughed hard, throwing his head back, then stopped and got back to a serious face instantly. He splayed his two hands on the table in front of Fury and spoke to his face.

 **"** You can’t afford me." He whispered and turned to leave.

"Tony wait!" The sly redhead woman called, pleadingly.

He turned, hands in the pockets of his suit. "We need you." She said, with her best Natalie's voice. Damn, she might be alpha, but she was hot! And Tony was weak to hotness. "And you need us."

"You've had me come all the way from California, just for that?"

"And how long exactly did that take you to fly over here with the suit?" Fury asked, clearly not feeling guilty at all.

Tony pouted. "Besides the point."

"Yeah. I thought so."

"So, what exactly do I need from SHIELD that I can't already have on my own?"

"Well, not having your armor requisitioned by the army, for starters." Fury answered.

"Oh you're worried about that? I'm touched, really. But don't you worry Sweetie pie, my team of lawyers's already on it. Just a matter of time."

"We have some information that might be of interest to you." The female Alpha interjected.

He showed his best hypocrite grin. "If I need information from you, I'll pay a visit to your servers."

"I'm sure we can find an arrangement and save you the hassle." Fury deadpanned. "You know there're still things that are unavailable online. Have you heard of project Rebirth?"

Tony felt a chill running down his spine. Howard and Erskine's project. The one that had made his dad famous. The one that had ruined his childhood, casting the shadow of Captain America over him for ever. Tony didn't give a shit about Project Rebirth and didn't wanna have anything to do with it but he couldn't turn a blind eye to this. If SHIELD was gonna play Frankenstein, he might as well keep on eye on them.

"You guys are trying to recreate the serum? You're insane. You're fucking insane. Seeing how great it turned out last time... Was Banner _approved_ for the initiative by the way? Cause that would tell a lot-- Wait! Is it Banner? Banner's omega? You would choose an unstable uncontrollable green monster over _me?_  Wow... This... Is the Hulk omega too? That's wild! Damn... How does that... How does that even work? I just can't believe you'd choose the Hulk! I mean, seriously?"

Fury rolled their eyes. "Are you done?"

Tony looked around, wiping his hands on his jacket, not knowing what to do with them. "Yeah. Yeah. Sure. Whatever... So, not Banner?"

Both Fury and Romanov remained silent. Fury was standing too and holding Tony's stare.

After a moment he finally spoke. "Do we have a deal?"

Tony hesitated. He hadn't planned on not getting approved, not like he needed to. He didn't particularly want to be part of Fury's little boy's band. He didn't _need_ a fucking team, but rejection hurt. Slightly. However, he could still save face. 

"I will waive my customary retainer in exchange for a small favor." He said, might as well turn this to his advantage. "Rhodey and I are being honoured in Washington and we need a presenter."

Fury smiled. Or at least, Tony thought he did. If the slight twitch up the corner of his mouth could be called a smile. Tony didn't think Fury was capable of more anyway.

 **"** I’ll see what I can do."

Well, it wasn't that bad after all. SHIELD must really want him if Fury was willing to drop his pants. They needed him more that he would ever need them. And Tony could do with that. Now SHIELD had opened their doors for him. They were gonna see who Tony Stark really was. 

_Fuckers._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I know, I shamelessly stole the script from Iron Man 2 for this one. Let's give them all the credit they deserve!


	3. The way he smelled

**SHIELD Headquarters, January 2012**

He was walking down the long and labyrinthine corridors.

Fury had needed his expertise. Urgently. And so he had flown there, having left everything else behind. Not that what he left was of the important kind, he just felt very stupid to be at Fury's beck and call, that's all. He was fucking better than that. He tried to seek comfort in the idea that it might be a saving-the-world kind of urgency. In that case he couldn't but be obliged to help them.

He wondered, though.

Since their first little agreement, Tony hadn't learned much about Project Rebirth, apart from the fact that SHIELD had continued the search for Captain America's body that his father had instigated. So far, giving advice on the confection of defense-purposed equipment and/or, let's be honest, potential weapons of mass destruction had been as far as his consulting thing with SHIELD went. And frankly, Tony wasn't very keen about that. He hadn't withdrawn from the weapon industry for nothing. He didn't feel like building weapons anymore and even though he wasn't building anything and had mostly given advice on how to keep the soldiers and agents safer, knowing that SHIELD was supplied with that kind of murderous equipment, even with the best intentions, made him fairly uncomfortable. And something told him he only knew the tip of the iceberg.

Still, even if he was rather powerless as to stop any kind of suspicious activities that could go on at the best governmental security agency, having some kind of access to some of it would always be precious in case he needed to prepare for a catastrophe. That left him with, at least, the possibility to try to do something, instead of just waiting passively for bad things to happen. So he didn't really think he was on the losing end of their little bargain. 

There had never been an emergency before, though. Therefore, he wasn't sure if he should be excited or scared about what Fury had planned for him. He might be a little bit of both.

What he didn't expect though, was to find himself reduced to a pathetic helpless alpha in the middle of SHIELD corridors.

He was almost arrived when it struck him like the cold wind of winter, chilling his entire body inside out. The sweet and spicy smell of arousal of an unbonded omega.

It was faint at first, brushing softly his nostrils. He felt his hackles raise from his lower back to the nape of his neck as a shudder ran up his spine. His skin prickled and a heated wave engulfed him as the scent grew stronger. He could smell it vividly. He stopped in his stride and started flaring like an animal, eyes almost revulsed and heart pulsating hard. He could feel his upper lip lifting up on its own, showing his teeth in half-lust half-aggressiveness, blaring his alpha instinct at the sight of omega. _His Omega_.

He was growing feral.

The omega in question was nowhere in sight though. Tony turned around in jerky and uncoordinated movements, searching everywhere around him like a maniac. There was nothing but closed doors and the two beta agents escorting him to where he was expected. He quickly came back to his senses and tried to repress those basic instincts. He forced his mouth shut and focused on the corridor in front of him, trying to subdue his jerky hands back to calmness. However, he couldn't help the overwhelming wave of heat pooling inside and making his whole body damp with sweat, nor the slight twitch of his cock. The scent was too strong, too sharp, screaming for him, begging him. Who was he to deny that? 

He shook these thoughts out of his mind quickly. That was just hormones, chemicals. He couldn't even believe that for a moment he had thought of making this omega his. Fucking biology! Tony Stark didn't do mates. He wasn't about to tie himself down to one person for the rest of life. He was one of those who grew bored quite easily.

He felt uneasy. Never in his life had he been so affected by the smell of an omega before. They weren't in the same room, how could he possibly sense them already? And this one was not even in heat, aroused yes, but not in heat. 

"Are you okay Mr Stark?" The blond agent on his right asked as he was staring into space without moving. She had put a comforting hand on his shoulder, as if to appease the beast inside of him. He jerked back, pushing her hand away. He was perfectly fine. Thanks. 

He hated that, this sort of condescending concern. He was not some crazy person for fuck sake! And he hated being touched without his consent. (Although, that kind of brutal reaction to it, he admitted, could look like he was a loony...)

Despite what Fury thought, despite what _everybody_ thought, he was perfectly capable of controlling himself around omegas, even when they were in heat. Indeed he was affected, sometimes grew feral around them, sometimes even in rut, often very weak to their smell but never completely out of control. And yes, sometimes, it demanded a tremendous amount of self-restraint but there was never a moment when he had lost it completely and entered into a fugue-like state, completely disregarding the other person's feelings. Contrary to common belief, Alphas can control their urges. Some assholes just use alpha instincts an excuse to get away with responsibilities when they fucked up. And since those same assholes were more than often on the ruling side, it had become the norm, but that didn't mean they were all like that. Tony didn't care much about that, but neither was he someone who would just take advantage, even as the powerful alpha that he was. He liked reciprocity too much for that.

Granted he had had some messy encounters as a teenager, when he was overwhelmed by teen hormones and new feelings and had no-one to explain these urges to him. Nothing that could be accountable as criminal offense though.

Growing up in a beta family had been hard on him. No-one could understand.

His status had been a surprise to everyone. Usually Alphas and Omegas were born from alphas or omegas, being the recessive gene and all. His mum had tried her best to understand him but failed to let go of that Christian do-gooder judgement. His dad had just despised him. He wasn't sure why. Certainly not religion. Was it envy? Was it jealousy? Because Alpha were still considered at the top of the chain, even if they were rarer and rarer and the growing beta population struggled to understand the dynamics between Alphas and Omegas, as well as the hierarchy system that ruled them. Was it genuine mistrust and/or disgust toward his nature? Or was it just him? Because he was a failure? A disappointment? Not good enough? Tony had no idea. 

He had learned about being Alpha on his own, through his own experiments and failures and had grown proud of who he was without his father's approval. On the contrary, he had thrived in being the exact opposite of what his father wanted. Dear dad was offended about his sexual behavior? He was going to shove it in his face in the most shocking ways.  Howard took pride in being the evolved one, fighting for equality and believing in being above biological status? Tony would just indulge in his most basic instincts and deviant urges to piss him off. He could still hear him,  _Captain America would never lower himself such obscene behavior_. Yeah well, fuck Captain America! Fuck him! And fuck your judgment and condescendence, Howard! This was how he had grown, how he had forged his personality. If he couldn't get love then he'd get hatred. It was always better than indifference.

Being the most obnoxious person in the room didn't bother him the slightest. He had little consideration for others and didn't care one bit about hurting their feelings. Hell, he'd do it on purpose most of the times, enjoying every stages of their growing anger and bitterness.

Yeah, he could be an ass sometimes. Most of the times.

He remembered his first conversation with Fury and Romanov about being a consultant for SHIELD. The way their faces had slowly cringed with outrage when he'd said omegas were only good for sex work. It still made him smile. He didn't think that, not really. It was just bad provocation, just for the sake of pissing them off. He admitted, he didn't handle rejection well.

Although, don't mistake him, he didn't give a shit about omega rights and so on but he never thought they were inferior or incapable. They were just born on the shitty side of biology, too bad for them, but he didn't have it in him to feel sorry. He just felt grateful not to have ended up like them. Not that being Alpha was so much better either. 

He was indeed a high-ranked powerful one. But only Alphas and Omegas could sense it and there were so few of them...

There was one here now though, _an omega_ , whose smell was the most exquisite and Tony just wanted to drown in a pool of it. A smell of arousal that poked at every nerves in his body, opened magical doors and sang lullabies and told fairy tales. His neurones danced like maniacs. He was loosing it. _He needed to focus._

Tony breathed slowly. He wasn't about to prove One-eyed Morpheus right. No way. He would master his instinct, control his desire, focus his mind. 

The smell was still overwhelmingly strong. Was it him? The special Omega?

Fury was not joking when he said he was powerful... Fucking Fury! The scent diffused all around and all over him, trapping him in his pitiful state, getting him intoxicated. He could feel his own scent emanating from his body, spreading around and getting stronger in an attempt to lure the unbonded Omega into his grasp. His cock was already hard.

What the fuck?

He was not a damn teenager anymore! He was a grown man. Had been around omegas for years.

This one was special though, so very special. He was feeling an attraction he had never experienced before. It was drawing him in, making him lose his mind. Was there such thing? He'd heard about it. Soulmates, scent-mates, whatever it was called. He had thought it was a myth. Some archaic fantasy from ancient times that had been invented to make people feel better about their status and their fucked-up lives. You know a bit like God and Heaven and all that religious crap...

Could it be it? Could it be something like this? Tony's heart skipped a bit.

He'd never considered being ever bonded. Pepper was the only relationship he had that lasted more than a month and it was not the best example of commitment and stability. Tony was just not the faithful, one-partner-for-life type and it had nothing to do with being Alpha. Although Alphas were known to indulge in polyamory and polygamy and the most powerful ones often bonded with several Omegas.

He could contemplate it, though. With this one. There was a teeny tiny moment where he actually considered bonding as a possibility... What if it actually _was_ Banner? Banner was an accomplished scientist. Tony had read all his work and it was outstanding. And that alone, was enough to give him a boner. He already had a man crush.

Yeah, 'cause, Tony would do about anyone. Omegas, betas, females, males even alphas, even _male_ alphas... That was the perk of being as powerful as he was. Even Alphas were willing to bend over for him, so yeah. He could do Banner. And if Banner's smell was that sweet, he could actually picture it. 

_God, What was wrong with him?_

He accelerated his pace. He wanted to see, he wanted to feel, he wanted to smell more. Curiosity was eating him away. That smell had him panting and enslaved. 

He barged in the room in fury and got dizzy at the gust of omega smell invading him. He almost choked on it. His head was spinning for a second before the smell dissipated. It was just a matter of second. Not long enough for a beta person to notice, but for him and for the omega it was ritual.

His eyes roamed the room in search for his promised. _His promised?_ He spotted Banner, he was beta after all. He spotted Romanov and Hill. 

Tony was wrong. The omega was not aroused. It was not arousal he could sense. Why did he think it was arousal? Maybe he had been mistaken before, maybe the smell had changed. He wasn't sure, but this omega was nowhere near aroused. Tony inhaled some more of that sweet delicious smell, it had turned a bit sour, confusion probably, fear maybe, but mostly, _mostly,_ anger.

He searched the room with his stare, eager and excited, head turning in frenzy, hands jerkily in intense motion. _Omega. Omega. He needed to protect them. He needed to soothe them._

And then he saw. His eyes locked into infinite blue pools. Two hundred pounds and six feet two of angry Omega. There was fury in those eyes. And Tony would have recognized those eyes anywhere. Those eyes, and that strong chiseled jaw, those red plush lips that were pure sin, those perfect muscles and that ridiculously sexy, old-fashioned haircut. The omega was standing proudly, feet unbudgingly grounded to the floor, arms crossed in military and fearless confidence, wearing his star-spangled suit. His whole attitude demanded respect and obedience. God, he was a parody of himself. 

 _Captain America was Omega._  Captain America was _Omega._ _Captain America, omega_. Captain America was omega, and he was downright pissed off right now.

Tony's skin spiked as all the blood in his body went right down to his cock. _Omega._ He felt the urge, the urge to submit him, to tame him. That one was cocky. He was pissed off but he was gorgeous. Magnificent. Tony thought he believed in God now for there would never be such perfection if God hadn't done something. And then he remembered that God had nothing to do with this, he was a pure product of science. And Tony was very grateful for it and congratulated himself for always believing in science and its perfect creation. The omega was the incarnation of beauty and had a smell that would make him climb mountains and take the stars out of the sky.

He lost it for a few seconds. He would have ran to him and kissed his feet if he hadn't been so puzzled. The man was pure angel.

Now, saying that Tony was surprised was the understatement of the century. He was paralyzed in shock and confusion. 

And it wasn't so much for the fact that Captain America was very much alive and in front of him, flesh and blood. Now Tony had questions about that, definitely, and one might have thought, this one was a replica or something because this was just an impossible situation, but not Tony, he'd seen and heard too much of him in his life to see he was facing the real man. No, it wasn't that. It wasn't even because Captain America, against all odds, was actually Omega and that thought alone was quite disturbing. No, if Tony Stark was a pure state of shock right now, was because the omega, _his omega_ was showing such despising and agressive hostility toward him that he thought for a moment he would kill him with his stare. Captain America was looking at him with daggers in his eyes, his whole being in defensive mode, teeth and claws out like an angry cat ready to attack him.

It was downright hatred and rejection. _And Fuck!_  He might have hated the man all his life, but this wasn't about Captain America. It was about _his omega_.

Tony was used to getting irritated reactions from people when they first met him. It was his trademark. He was obnoxious, infuriating and he liked stirring up all kinds of unpleasant emotions in people upon seeing him. Not from omegas though, never from omegas. Omegas crawled for him, they shook their asses for him and would do anything to get his attention.

It boiled and churned in his chest. All the horrible feelings he had felt in his life all mixing together to form a flaring ball of fury in his stomach and riled him up. He was enraged. His whole body trembled with Alpha rage and he felt all the aggressiveness boiling inside, threatening to explode at any moment. He strode to the Omega to face him while everyone stared. He was ready to jump on him, in every sense of the word.

_Kneel._

Captain America didn't even flinch.

Tony was furious. It was outright disobedience. The omega didn't only reject him, he also disrespected him and insulted his status. It was the worst affront.

_Kneel!_

Tony sensed the omega's smell intensify around him, enveloping him. He could feel the anger, the disgust, the hatred staining the scent. They were standing, facing each other, glaring in each other's eyes. Neither of them budged, both of them trying to win the staring contest. Anyone could feel the tension between them, but only an alpha or an omega would be able to understand exactly what was happening. 

_Kneel Omega! kneel!_

The blond omega was fuming. His face was flushed with rage. Tony could see him grit his teeth and clench his fist. He was holding himself back. One more attempt and he would punch him but Tony would rather take a punch from a super soldier than suffering that much disobedience from an omega.

Tony raised his hand without thinking, he was going to tame that omega no matter what. He'd use physical strength if he had to. He was about to grab him by the neck and pull him down on his knees, but before he lost it completely, the redhead alpha came between him and the blond, protecting him and glaring in his direction.

Fury too had noticed and came to the omega's rescue. He cracked a smile and held his hand to Tony.

"Mr Stark! Welcome onboard!"  _The sly fox_ "Let me introduce you. You already know Agent Romanov." Romanov nodded and stepped aside. Fury held his hand in the Omega's direction. "This is Captain Rogers, as you can see. He's going to lead the Avengers from now." And no-one seemed to care that a man supposedly dead for 70 years was just casually standing there like everything was normal. _Welcome to SHIELD!_ "Captain? This is Howard's son, Anthony Stark." Man, he really _hated_ Fury. 

Tony grinned and politely held his hand to the Captain in a poor attempt at reconciliation but the recalcitrant omega didn't reach for it. _Asshole!_

Finally, Dr Banner joined them and they shook hands, declaring their mutual respect for each other's work. It was a shame he wasn't _the_  omega instead of that detestable unruly Steve Rogers, because he was cute and even all beta as he was, Tony would do him on Tuesday.

"So, now that I'm here, let's get the party started, what am I doing here?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you appreciated.  
> I know this is not very original but I wanted to introduce some background to their story before Bucky.  
> If you have some time and maybe wanted to leave a comment to tell me if you liked it, or why you didn't like it that would be... great! No, awesome! That would be really awesome.


	4. The way He smelled

Steve was waiting in one of the conference room in SHIELD headquarters. He wasn't really in a good mood. Actually, he was quite bothered for different reasons. 

He had been awake for only six months and there was already a critical situation that would need him to sacrifice himself, again. He couldn't believe those people had actually withdrawn the most dangerous weapon he had ever encountered from the bottom of the ocean where it should have been left for eternity. Really, times had changed but not that much. Not enough anyway, for humanity to repeat the same mistakes over and over again.

He wasn't sure why he had accepted Fury's request. Somehow, seventy years later, when everything and everyone he knew were gone, he didn't feel that much concerned. Besides, he had always been wary of Fury. He had not liked being lied to when he woke up. He hadn't trusted Fury then. He didn't trust him now. He was pretty sure Fury was hiding something and he didn't like that at all. The man had been manipulative, cozying him up into a false sense of security. He was trying his best to accommodate him in this day and age, and maybe he was trying too much. He seemed very careful not to offend his omega sensitiveness but Steve wasn't a fragile little thing that needed to be handled with kid gloves. Living most of his life as an unbonded omega, Steve had lived his load of hardship. But how could Fury understand? How could anybody understand what it was like to be an omega in the 40s? To be an omega now, in a social context where there was hardly any omegas at all? Maybe the world had evolved but in that department, not as much as he had hoped it would. So far the only omegas he had met where in the medicals, nurses or assistant nurses and he could count them on the fingers of one hand.

So, he didn't like this cozy bubble they had built around him, protecting him from the world. He didn't need protection, he needed friends, people he could trust, people he could rely on. SHIELD had provided him with psychological help of course, but Steve knew better. As an Omega he had learned quickly that keeping your mouth shut was always the best way. There are things that are better left unsaid. Steve knew and didn't trust the shrinks one bit. The only person he was okay with so far was Natasha. She had never lied, never pretended and she was alpha so she could understand better. And it was nice to have an alpha close, it was reassuring. He didn't need reassurance but he couldn't fight his instincts all the time. And Natasha, even though she was alpha, had understood quite quickly what Steve needed and what he didn't want. She had quit her alpha urge to be protective rather soon. It probably was because she was an excellent judge of character. She had figured him out and it was ideal because she wasn't threatening, she never made advances. She just wasn't interested at all and that was comforting. He just wished he could have interactions with another omega from time to time but he was the only one here, in the room, and probably in the whole building. 

He was listening to Dr Banner explaining his theories on the Tesseract -that's what they called it, the power source of hydra weapons during the war- and what some alien person named Loki could ever do with it and he was trying to understand them. He was struggling, he admitted. He was a quick learner but he hadn't been to school long. His education had been very basic, even for the forties. Growing up as a poor omega, there wasn't much chance at getting a good education. Actually he had been lucky to, at least, get one. Most omegas in his time were illiterate, bonded early or sent to serve in rich houses- for the luckiest. And then, there had been the war. And then there had been a gap of seventy years in his timeline. These past six month he had been trying his best to adjust to this new century and catch up on everything he had missed but he hadn't done that very well, he thought. Sometimes it was too much, too overwhelming. 

Everybody was waiting for another scientist, a genius apparently, to help them understand more about the Tesseract and form a plan of action. He was not just a scientist, he was also a superhero- at least, that how they called him in the media. Steve had read his file and frankly he had been trying his best to go past it and not let that alter his judgment of him before even meeting him in person. Surely Howard's son would not be as despicable as his files led to think. 

Steve was a bit nervous though, on edge, about meeting him in person. They had warned him, with kid gloves again, as if he was this poor innocent little flower. He may be unbonded, but he was hardly innocent. That alone told him they had no idea what a life as an omega meant. He had had his share of alpha rudeness and he could handle alphas fine, even before the serum. But Natasha had warned him too, Tony Stark was no average alpha.

So that had left him concerned but he was also excited to meet another alpha. Alpha and omega population had drastically decreased during the 20th century, they represented less that 10 percent of the world population now, and it felt lonely. There were a few alphas at SHIELD of course, most alphas worked in the military or in security agencies but they were still a minority. And even if Steve would have liked to meet another omega, having someone else facing similar issues was always comforting. So he had mixed feelings about Tony Stark.

Natasha, Maria Hill and Dr Banner were still discussing the Tesseract, talking in scientific words he didn't understand.

"Captain? Are you still with us?" Steve instinctively turned toward the voice calling at him. Hill was studying him with a concerned expression on her face.

"What?" He asked, having trouble hiding his confusion.

Somehow, in the course of the conversation, his mind had wandered off and now he could only focus on one thing. Just one thing. Something that demanded his complete utmost attention. Something that pulled his entire being away. Something that shut down every rational thought from his mind. _Alpha._

_Alpha._ _Alpha. Alpha._

It was not Natasha. Natasha's scent was nowhere near as strong as this one. Yet, Natasha was the only alpha is the room. He would recognize Natasha's scent in a pool of shit. He was used to it now. It didn't stir any reaction in him. It had bothered him at first, but he didn't react to it anymore. It was incomparable though. Incomparable. Steve had never encountered an alpha so powerful. The smell was dizzying, enthralling, making him lose his senses. He was already reacting to it and the alpha was still far. Steve could tell. The serum had enhanced his sense of smell and he could sense people from very far. It had been useful to spot the enemy. His senses were so acute that he could give an approximate evaluation of the distance separating them from him.

Steve wasn't sure if the alpha was an enemy yet but the smell was aggressive, brutal. Animalistic and sexual. Erotic in a way he had never felt before. And it wasn't just the smell, the whole person was surrounded with an energy that surpassed everything. His eyes searched for Natasha, he saw the look in her eyes. She knew. She must have sensed his turmoil. He was suddenly invaded by a nauseous sense of shame. He couldn't be reacting this way to an alpha. He couldn't. He hadn't. _Never._

He felt a shudder running down his entire body. His hands were shaky and getting clammy. He felt all the hairs on his body goosebump as a cold shiver roamed over his skin. A wave of heat was pooling inside of him, spreading all over, up to the very tips of his fingers and toes. His insides were churning, a mix of desire and fear all mingled together. His groin was burning and his stomach was in a turmoil. He could feel it creep in his entire body. Pure desire and lust. Steve had been aroused around alphas before but not that way, not as uncontrollably and desperately as this. He felt the urge to tear his clothes off, get himself free and appease the itch that spread over his burning body. He hated that body, so demanding, begging to be touched.

The smell grew stronger, a fog of ferocious arousal and possessiveness. The alpha must have sensed him, he was getting close. Steve wanted no less than throw himself by the window or at the alpha's feet. He was dying, dying in shame.

His entire self was left powerless, struggling desperately against the urge to submit, trembling in shame and desire. He was thankful for the uniform, because as painfully as it was, he'd rather be trapped in it than showing his arousal to the entire room of betas who would never understand. They would think he was dirty. That he was a pervert. An underdog. They couldn't possibly understand. 

His body was screaming, torn apart, overwhelmed by an uncontrollable craving. He was taken by an impossible yearning to drop on his knees. He wanted to crawl. All the way to the alpha and beg. Beg for him to take him, to break him, to tear him apart. 

His mouth watered and he swallowed with difficulty with the lump in his throat. The alpha was so close, so close. He couldn't be this way. He could show himself this way. He couldn't be that vulnerable. He just couldn't. He just wanted to cry. How could he lose control like this? What would he do when the alpha is here?

He was scared. 

Was it him? Was it Tony Stark? How could he be so powerful? Howard was beta and as far as he knew, his wife was beta too. How could they have brought such a powerful alpha into the world? He regretted being so proud. He should have listened. Sometimes he hated being so stubborn and bullheaded. 

For the first time in his life, he was _scared._ Scaredof an alpha. That man could destroy him. Steve felt so weak on his knees. He hated himself. He hated this, everything about this. What would the man do to him? He was terrified and he hated this man too. He had never seen his face but he already hated him. Anger crept inside of him. Anger and shame and rage all mingling together. He would force himself to feel like this, so he would forget about his deepest, darkest desires.

His heart skipped and he hissed when he finally saw him, all fired up, barging in like a mad man. There was so much energy around him, it was pulling him in like a magnet. He would have crawled. He would have crept on the floor to him and squirmed and wriggled.   _Alpha._

He hated himself for that. 

Their eyes met, and it took his breath away. He was so handsome, he thought, everything Steve would ever want in an Alpha. Actually, he had never consider it before. He had never planned to have an alpha, ever.  He didn't think he had a type, but when he saw he knew. He knew this alpha was exactly his type. The man's eyes were lethal, in a sexual fury. He was almost feral, already reacting to his omega pheromones. 

Steve glared defensively, trying his best to keep his stance and keep the alpha away, far away from him. He mustn't get too close. If he came closer he wasn't sure he would keep his composure. He was already losing all sense of self-control. He was using his imposing body to put up some sort of front. It was stupid and he knew it. He could fool everyone here, pretending to be so strong and unreachable but he would never fool an alpha. Size had no importance in alpha/omega relationships. Steve could be the strongest, the tallest, the fastest man on earth, he would always, always be at his alpha's mercy. 

The man had certainly already sensed his arousal. He knew his defenses were falling. He probably already knew Steve was his and would be his no matter what. He must have sensed it. He must have because Steve could feel the Alpha's scent growing stronger and stronger and more aggressive than ever, and more powerful than ever. He was staring at him and started pacing furiously in his direction, teeth and chest out.

Steve didn't even have the time to take a breath. The overpowering alpha was already in front of him, demanding his submission. _He didn't even need to say it._

Steve knew and his knees wobbled at the powerful stare. Only the most dominant alphas could pull up something like this. It took all his willpower not to comply. Steve wanted to, so badly, he wanted to be on his knees right now, crawl to his alpha's feet, bend over for him, nuzzle his feet and snuggle his head up his leg, right to his crotch. His mouth was already watering at the expectation, he wanted to feel him in his mouth, every part of him. He wanted to be good and worthy of him and swallow everything and be patted on the head as a reward. He had never done this, submitting, before but this was exactly what he wanted to do now. What he needed to do. He knew it. The alpha demanded, the omega complied. His alpha demanded it, he should comply because that's what he wanted and needed and his whole being was begging and craving for it. And all his senses were in alert. And his body was being torn apart from the inside. He couldn't open his mouth or he would moan and sob like a slut. He had to grit his teeth with all his serumed-up strength to prevent that, at the risk of breaking his own jaw. 

Steve wasn't that kind of omega. Steve didn't submit. He _did not_ submit. Not to him, nor to anyone. _Not to him_. Not him. Not now. No here. 

He felt his body burning and hurting at the urge to drop on his knees. He forced his arms to remain crossed on his chest, and clenched his fists. He could feel the nails cutting his palms. He could smell the blood already. The alpha was staring into his eyes surrounding him with all his power, trapping him. He couldn't get away. _Kneel._  His eyes demanded.  _Submit._ And it hurt so much not to obey. It was so hard to fight his instincts. So hard to struggle. He felt so hot, his groin burning with desire that spread all over.

He was getting wet. He could feel it. His underwear getting damp trapped inside the Captain America suit. In the middle of SHIELD Headquarter. 

He loathed that alpha so much. His anger turned into rage and hatred. He wouldn't _not_ submit. 

The alpha didn't have to. He _didn't have to_  demand his submission. He was doing it, on purpose. He wanted Steve to kneel, to drop on his knees and humiliate himself. How could he do this to him? How could he ask something like that from him, here of all places? In front of Dr Banner, Natasha, Hill, Fury, here in the middle of the conference room, surrounded by hundreds of agents. How could he do this? 

He saw a glimpse of madness in the alpha's eyes. He was completely feral. Gone. And he was about to force him down. And the second he touched his skin, Steve would drop on his knees and tear his uniform apart, beg for forgiveness and beg to be fucked and knotted. Right here right now. In front of everyone. To show everyone he was the man's omega and only that for the rest of his life.

Natasha saw his distress and came between them protectively. The alpha snapped out of it, came back to his senses and stepped back apologetically. 

 _Finally._ Finally Steve could breathe again. He was emerging from his haze, mastering his emotions again. He could control his urges now. More or less. The alpha looked at him while Fury introduced them, but he wasn't surprised, nor impressed to see him. There was still anger in his eyes and, shame maybe? But it didn't make him lose his confidence. He even went as far as trying to shake hands with him, as if Steve would let him touch him. He knew he couldn't. If he did he would lose it again.

Steve had never hated someone as much as he hated the alpha right now. He was right. Tony Stark was not as despicable as his file led to think. No. He was _worse._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I'm perfectly aware that this has been written over and over and over and that I probably stole this from another fic but I can't help it. I just love them falling in love at first smell too much... Forgive me?


	5. When I remember you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little gift to start on the weekend. It’s a short chapter though. Enjoy!

** Somewhere, In the Twenty-first century **

He has been awake for a month now. 

He doesn't like being awake. It often means people talking to him, needing to respond, having to explain. He doesn't like it. It is tiring. He'd rather be asleep. He likes the absence of consciousness, the smoothing pool of emptiness. It's like being here without being here. It’s comforting, safe, satisfying.

But they've kept him awake, for a month. It isn't always bad. Sometimes they give him occupation, sometimes he even gets a mission and it keeps his mind focused. He needs his mind focused. They will give him targets and objectives. All he needs to do is complete the mission and then he can go back to sleep but they’ve kept him awake. For a month.

On good days, he will be able to do things, like, chores. And wait patiently, and feel the emptiness. The comforting emptiness. Sometimes, people are nice to him. Sometimes Karpov gives him orders. He likes those. Orders are comforting, safe, satisfying. He even gets food. _Sometimes._ What he likes is the brown sugary thing. He likes it a lot. When he gets it. It is a good day.

Most of the times, he is fed by intravenous. It doesn't bother him. Eating, going to the bathroom, washing, doing chores. It's all the same to him. It is a distraction. A way to feel empty again, and content. 

What bothers him are the thoughts. He doesn't like the thoughts. They make him feel weird inside. They make his stomach roil. He doesn't like the thoughts. And thoughts lead to other things even worse. Things like memories. Things like feelings.

He doesn't like the idea of feeling. It is a concept he is not familiar with. He doesn't like things he isn't familiar with.

He likes basic concepts. Hungry. Thirsty. Tired. Content. Not content. Those are the concepts he understands.

Hungry is when he needs food.

Thirsty is when he needs water.

Tired is when he needs sleep.

Content is when he kills a target or when he gets brown sugary food. 

Not content is when he misses a target.

The other concepts are all too complicated. They make his stomach churn. When the thoughts are too much. He asks Karpov to wipe him out. They erase all the thoughts, the memories, the things that are too complicated for him. Then he feels content again. Empty. Safe. On good days he feels empty and content.

Today is not one of the goods days.

Today, he sees things. Things that are in his head. Thoughts. They are alien. They don't belong to him. They belong to someone else. 

He doesn't know how this is possible. It's very weird. Scary. It makes him feel uncomfortable, the idea that some else put foreign thoughts in his head. 

The things he sees aren't always bad things.

Sometimes they are. Very bad. Very scary. Like dying inside.  Like _dying_. _Inside_. Dying is not like sleeping. Dying hurts. Everywhere. It's cold and it burns the skin and people are screaming and his arm is tearing apart. Numb with pain. This is what dying is. He doesn't like dying. He doesn't want to die. He likes sleeping. Emptiness. Safety. He likes the pain of the syringe. The pain that means he's going to sleep. He likes the straps that keep him from moving, that keep him safe. He likes the warm emptiness. The fog in his head. The forms that move around him, distorted, vanishing away. Far away. The darkness. Darkness is safe, it’s sleeping. Dying is white as snow. And cold. Freezing cold.

Sometimes they're not bad. Sometimes they're good. Like sun. And warmth. And dinner. And blond hair. He doesn't really know what all of this is. He never lived this. But somehow he can see it in his head. He can feel it too.

Sometimes it's just a noise, like the sound of a deep laugh. The music in a dance. The scattering noise of broken glass in a bar fight. He has never been in a bar before. But there are just things he knows. Those are the kind of things he just knows. 

Sometimes it's just a smell. Like the smell of food, or the perfume of a girl. Or the smell of an omega. He doesn't know what an omega is. But in his head he just knows. Omega smell means safe in his head. Safe and happy and fun, although, he doesn't really know all these concepts. They are too complicated. They make his stomach churns.

Sometimes it is a taste. The taste of beer. The taste of meat once a month. Only once a month. And the taste of an omega. Omegas taste good and smell good and smell safe.

And Sometimes it's a feel. The feel of a punch on someone's jaw. The scraping of a hard blow on his nose, the force that pushes his head backward. The pain in his teeth. The hot flame of a candle brushing the palm of his hand. The feel of the burning skin of an omega, in heat. 

And sometimes, it's all of this at the same time and it's completely overwhelming and scary and it doesn't belong to him. It belongs to the other guy. The guy who is trying to steal his body. The guy who is trying to hack his brain. He is dead. Karpov said. But he knows deep inside, he knows that these images, these thoughts belong to that guy and it's absolutely nauseating.

Today is one of those days. When the thoughts are too much. Too scary. Too foreign. 

It started with a noise first. Keys in a doorknob. And a door pushed open. The smell of a rusty shabby apartment. The smell of omega. And Blue eyes. Not his own. Someone else's blue eyes. Intense blue eyes staring at him with a dancing light in it. Then it's a laugh, more of a chuckle really. And the voice. "Thanks." The omega says. He is small and scrawny and beautiful and strong and staring intently with warmth and determination. _And melancholy._

_And it’s too much. Too many feelings. Feelings he doesn’t understand._

Then it's a sigh. A breath of sadness and regrets. The feel of two small arms gripping him firmly and strongly. The feel of someone warm and breathing, nuzzling in the crook of his neck. The slight tickle of soft blond hair. "I'll miss you." And the voice is rasp, broken with sadness.

And then it's the painful noise of whispered goodbyes. The need to cry but the pride not to do it. The omega doesn't cry either but his eyes are wet and shiny.

And it's too much. Too much and too painful and too foreign. It's someone else's. And It’s too complicated. He doesn’t understand this. He doesn’t understand these concepts. He feels submerged, like he is drowning, like when they train him to resist torture. And he can’t breathe, his chest is hurting. His body starts convulsing. His vision is blurry and his eyes white out. it’s overwhelming. And there is cold and the wind is burning his skin and his arm is tearing apart. And there are screams and now he is screaming too. He is screaming.

He goes to Karpov. He knows he's gonna get punished for this. He shouldn’t have these thoughts. He doesn't want to go see Karpov. He doesn’t want to be punished but the other guy is highjacking his brain. He's trying to steal his body. He's trying to erase his mind. He needs to resist. He needs to see Karpov and they're going to erase these thoughts from his mind and he's going to be put to sleep and he's going to feel empty and content and safe again. 

He's going to be punished. He knows, but he can't stand it anymore. They need to go. It's too much. Too much 


	6. I love you but I will never say it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really sorry chapter 5 was so disappointing. I tried my best. I hope you will like this one better. And please, tell me what you think. I do take into account what the readers tell me.

If there is one thing you can say about their relationship it would be that it isn’t your usual bond story. Not the way they talk about it in books and movies. There is nothing pure or romantic or beautiful about it. There isn’t anything cute about it. Steve isn’t even sure if there’s actually something good about it. He can’t even say if he’s happy or not with Tony. He probably is, sometimes. He must have been, at some point. 

The only thing he knows is that he can’t live without Tony anymore.  Tony is everything to him. Even if Steve wishes he wasn’t, Tony is the only reason he keeps going in this world. 

They had a rocky start, to say the least, but that isn’t even close to qualify what they had.

He hated him. He _hated_ Tony. He has, for a long time. Even when they were fucking, he had hated him. He hated everything about it at first.

After their terrible first encounter, they had been going at each other's throats for days. Every time he was seeing him, hearing him, smelling him he felt nauseous, remembering how docile and submissive and shamefully aroused he had been on that day. He was still pliant when around him. He always felt weak in the knees in his presence. The man was so infuriating. He did his best to avoid him and it worked, for a while.

And then they found Loki, and the scepter, and everything went to shit. That time on the helicarrier. The alpha had touched him and Steve’s skin burnt at the touch, he felt his inside rile up in an instant. "Back Off" he shouted. "You know damn well why" Who was he fooling? They both knew what was happening, only betas wouldn’t have a clue.

"Put on the suit" he had said. And that was just the stupidest idea he ever had. Because the Alpha did.

Steve had thought, with the suit, he wouldn’t have the same effect on him. Turned out it didn’t change a thing. Only that now, Steve didn’t even have the superiority of his super strength.

Tony put on his suit and Steve took off his own.

Everything else is kind of blurry. Soon he was on his knees, bent over, head resting against the training room’s floor, waiting for the alpha to take him. It was brutal and needy and clumsy and it hurt. His knees scraped on the floor at each thrust and his head grazed with the pressure of the Alpha’s iron hand on his neck. Tony didn’t even bother taking the suit off, he only removed what was in the way. Steve isn’t even sure it felt good, for neither of them. They were too eager, too carnal.

It didn't, actually. It  _wasn’t_ good. It wasn't, until he felt the knot. And suddenly everything felt amazing and right and Steve finally stopped fighting it.

For a short time, he relished in the moment, it felt right and so good and it was everything he needed, everything he'd always needed and for the first time he let go, completely, abandoning himself to the Alpha, just like he was supposed to. That is, until the Alpha tried to bite him and mark him as his and Steve snapped out of it. He panicked and struggled and shouted "I don’t want it."

He writhed and tried to pull away but they were tied together. Tony held him tight, anchoring him on the floor with the powerful gauntlet, so strongly that he bruised, but with his other hand, the one bare, he stroked his damp hair, gently. The gesture was affectionate and soothing and thankful. Tony was whispering kind words "Shhh, I got you... I got you." and Steve leaned on the touch, feeling appeased and sated. The Alpha dominated him but he didn’t bond him. He respected that, at least.

Tony had said sorry. For that, trying to bond, and also for trying to submit him that very first day. When he had lost it completely and grew feral on him. Steve thought he could sense some vulnerability then, hidden deep behind the man’s obnoxious behavior, but he didn’t dwell on it. Not that day anyway.

He isn’t going to pretend that it was all Tony’s fault, that he didn’t want it or that he didn’t like it, not now, not anymore. He didn’t feel that way at the time, it was so much easier to blame Tony for being that helpless and submissive around him, but now he can, at least, admit it. He had wanted it as much as Tony had. They _both_ wanted it. Or maybe Tony hadn't wanted it, juts as much as he hadn't but there was too much angst, too much attraction, too much frustration and they just can't fight their instinct all the time. With the upcoming battle, tension was rising, feelings were increased, anger pent up. They both needed it. They both needed a break, something to relieve the stress.

It was meant to be. 

And it worked. After that they just clicked. On the battlefield everything just made sense. They stopped fighting each other, and they were perfect when fighting together. It was meant to be.

It didn’t mean that Steve was happy about it. He wasn’t, he hated that. He hated that he had let himself indulge in his basest instincts. He hated Tony for making him feel so helpless. He didn’t need an alpha. He had accepted that it had been a necessary thing at the time but he had thought it would be just a one time thing. 

He was wrong.

It didn’t take long to happen again. In fact, it happened again very soon. Just after the battle, after Tony almost died, after the shawarma, after they were all sent to medical for check up.

Steve had waited till everyone was gone to change and take off the grimy suit, so he could have some privacy. It’s not that he was modest. He was poked and prodded enough to stop being shy by now. He just doesn’t like people seeing him naked. It is stupid, but as an omega, he has always had the sensation of being preyed all the time and it’s an awful feeling.

He was completely naked when he sensed him. He should have smelled him earlier but somehow, after the adrenaline drop and the aftermath of the battle his mind was elsewhere. 

It was an accident. Tony hadn’t meant to intrude on him. At least he thought so, but he will never know for sure. It doesn’t change a thing now anyway.

The Alpha seemed as surprised as he was to meet him there. When he penetrated the room Steve froze and didn’t dare turn around to look at him but he could feel him, feel his presence, his warmth, his growing desire. The Alpha scent was strong and aggressive, and struck Steve like a slap on his face. They had learned how to work with their smells without losing control like they had the first time, but there and then, alone in the locker room, when Steve was naked and vulnerable, having let go of all his defenses, it wasn’t the same.

He felt a pool of heat roiling inside. His whole body trembled and his skin felt warm and prickly. His heart raced in his chest and he couldn’t control his breathing. He started panting heavily and slowly, trying to catch his breath. The Alpha was reacting too, he could sense it. It’s always like that between them. They always stir each other up, arousing desire in each other. Each of them reacting to the other’s scent. It escalates pretty quickly, every time. 

Steve was already hard but he wouldn’t turn around. He wouldn’t let him see, he wouldn’t submit. Never. The Alpha didn’t try to force it, he just stared from where he was standing at the door.

He stared. And Steve couldn’t see his eyes but he could feel the stare burning his skin. He could feel his hand getting clammy and the sweat dripping down his spine. He could almost feel the Alpha’s rough and calloused hands on him. He remembered them vividly. Every part of his body remembered. He wanted to kneel but he wouldn’t. _Never_.

He wanted the Alpha but he didn’t want to want the Alpha. His body however, was treacherous.

He was on fire and he felt the slick trickling down his thigh. And like a wolf jumping on its prey, the Alpha was on him, seizing his neck and pushing him against the wall. He was pinning him against the rough concrete with one hand clutching his neck strongly.

The other hand roughly stroked his back and ran down his rear soon enough. Steve moaned and wiggled, arching his back to present his ass. He didn’t want to but he did it anyway, he stretched his back as much as he could, seeking the touch of the Alpha. He was purring under his touch, feeling so happy and good to be there. The man rewarded him for so much eagerness. He could already feel two fingers breaching his entrance. He gasped and writhed and rubbed his aching body on the wall, hands splayed out against it. He didn’t want this. "Take them off. I don’t want it." He breathed out, panting. "I don’t wanna have sex with you." _The best lies are the ones you believe yourself._

Tony took his fingers out immediately and stepped back. Steve gasped in relief and turned his head to him, while he still leaned against the wall, trying to steady himself. He hadn’t thought it would work but it did. The Alpha was looking at him apologetically. He seemed nervous and regretful for a second. He pouted but he didn’t try to force anything. He was hard though, Steve could see it, hard and hot and shaky. The scent was strong, dizzying, spiked with arousal and need but he wouldn’t act on it. Steve had said no.

And it felt good, to be respected like that. It felt gratifying not to indulge in sex, to have reality matching his will, for once. He hadn’t met many alphas who would care about that. It should have ended then. It should have stayed that way.  _But his body doesn’t lie_.

Steve should have left, put on his clothes and left the room and the Alpha, to do whatever he wanted with his hard-on. He should have, but he didn’t. Instead, he remained splayed out against the wall, chest heaving and panting hard. He didn’t move, he just kept looking behind him, at Tony, lips parted and slick dripping down. And when the Alpha moved, he whimpered, calling for the Alpha's attention, scared that he would go and leave him like that, or just trying to make the alpha touch him, Steve isn’t so sure anymore.

His body doesn’t lie.

The alpha's eyes turned feral in a second. "Yes, you do." The raspy voice said. And the Alpha was already on him, three fingers thrusted in one go. Steve took them without prostesting. He just gasped and keened at the pleasure and the shame. He didn’t try to escape. "This is _exactly_ what you want." Steve had never realized Tony’s voice was so deep and hoarse, and sexy, before. It grounded him, inflamed him, drove him crazy. He whimpered. Tony’s fingers fucked him hard and raw. "You want an alpha who’s strong enough, powerful enough to make you pliant, go past your shit and give you what you need." Tony added a fourth finger and thrusted hard and roughly, enough to make him bleed. He wished he would. He wanted to. Tony didn’t go easy on him, punishing him for his insubordination. Maybe that’s why he said no. Maybe that’s what he always wanted.

Steve sobbed, and writhed, and rubbed against the wall but he took it, never even tried to get away. He could have, but he didn’t try, not once.

He felt weak on his knees. He was wobbling, already.

Tony slowed down. He ran his hand down his back, smearing the sweat, his four fingers still buried inside. He fucked him slowly, stretching him wide open. Steve was panting heavily, he was burning inside, aching all over. His cock was ready to explode, leaking precum on the floor. He wanted more. He moaned frustratedly.

Tony led him down, on all four but this time he put something under his knees and he rested his upper body on one of the bench. Steve let his Alpha handle him like a puppet. He just tried to breathe in between whimpers. When Steve was settled according to his taste, Tony came behind him and thrusted his four fingers in one go. Steve let him, he barely moved. His body was trembling and aching. Tony started fucking at a punishing rythm again, until Steve cried and begged. 

"This is what you want, omega. This is exactly what you want. Tell me you want it."

"No." _Yes._

"Tell me you want my knot."

"No. I don’t want it." _I do. Please take me._

Tony spanked him and took his fingers out painfully. Steve gasped and wriggled his ass, his gaping hole twitched with need. Tony rubbed his cock on his entrance. He grabbed his wrists and pulled his arms behind, on each side. Steve let him. He waited, expectantly. Tony pulled hard on his arms and his cock slipped inside, raw and hard. Steve gasped. Tony didn’t move. He waited and whispered "Tell me you want my knot."

Steve sobbed. "I don’t."   _YES, I DO._

Tony thrusted hard, once, and drew a cry out of Steve. "Yes, you do. Say it"

Steve was really crying now and it was ugly. "Please don’t." He moaned.

Tony finally started moving inside, relieving him from the aching need and painful frustration. He pounded hard into him. "Please" he breathed out. "Please don’t." "Make me" "say it" He panted hard, gasping at each thrust. It felt so good. It hurt so much. He wanted more. He wanted everything and the Alpha knew exactly how to give it to him and he hated that.

He hated him.

Steve didn’t come, he leaked his cum on the floor under the bench. Tony pounded until Steve was empty and spent himself inside. Steve didn’t even try to protest when he felt the knot. He wanted it, just as much as he had wanted everything Tony gave him. Even if he didn’t want to want it. When he was full he cried and felt a wave of pleasure invade him, overwhelming him. Just like a powerful orgasm, except he didn’t come. It was everything he ever wanted, and everything he ever dreaded.

Tony fondled his ass, stroked his hips and his trembling body, soothing him with gentle caresses. He didn’t try to bite him this time, but he kissed his bonding gland and licked the sweat off his neck. When he finally went limp, the Alpha pulled out delicately trying not to hurt him. He caressed him one last time and grabbed his neck, rubbing his thumb on his pale sensitive skin. He ran his hand in his hair and kissed his temple, and his nape, and the crook of his neck, and his shoulder. He gave him a last gentle stroke and turned Steve's head so he would face him. Tony's eyes were gentle and grateful. He could say so many things with his eyes. Or maybe it was just Steve knowing, because he was omega, his omega, because they were bonding.

And then Tony left.

Steve hated him. 

After that each of them went back to their lives. They saw each other occasionally, and when they did, they fucked. Every time. Steve hated it, until he didn’t.

He doesn't really know exactly when or how it started between them. He isn’t sure. He remembers the facts, he remembers their first time, and their second time and all the times after that. He remembers how needy and instinctive it was between them at the beginning. That he remembers, but he has no idea when feelings came into play.

He doesn’t know how it happened. He just knows that it happened. He just knows that at one point, they stopped finding excuses to meet and fuck. He knows that at one point he stopped pretending he didn’t like it. He admitted it. He was hooked. He would never be able to fuck another alpha again. He is Tony’s and there’s not point trying to deny it. He is in love with Tony and Tony is in love with him, but they never talk about it. They keep seeing each other, knowing but never mentioning it, as if it is a dirty word. Something taboo. Maybe it is. Steve isn’t sure how things work now. What he knows is that in his time, omegas didn’t have a say in it. They were not entitled to have feelings or opinions. Omegas shut their mouths. 

Steve doesn’t. He says what he has to say, most of the time. That’s how he was raised, to never let bullies get the best of him, to stand for himself. He has his mum to thank for that. And Bucky. Steve doesn’t bother taking kids gloves when he has something on his mind, but he knows how and when to keep his mouth shut.

There are things that are better left unsaid.

He doesn’t know when they started sharing something more. What he does know, though, is when he realized it. He remembers clearly when he knew, when he realized he loved Tony, when he realized he was bonded.

He had never wanted to bond. He and Bucky, they were free spirits in their time, they had hope, ideals, purposes. They promised themselves they would never bond. And who needs an Alpha anyway? Certainly not Steve. Steve didn’t need an Alpha, he could take care of himself. He isn’t sure if it’s true anymore though.

When they were young, most omegas wanted to bond, settle down, have kids. That’s the way things were. That was the best way to survive when you are omega. Bonding was seen as something so pure and sacred at the time. Everyone wanted that. Steve and Bucky though, they didn’t see it that way. For them bonding was a prison, a cage in which they would remain for the rest of their lives once it happened. Steve had witnessed his mum, dying a slow death, withering, wasting away her young days after his dad had died in war. She had tried to be strong for him, to show him how not to end up like her but she gave up eventually, like every omega. That’s what it meant to be bonded. Bucky on the other end, had wished his sire was dead, for he tormented his papa day after day. Not every alpha takes good care of their omega. Maybe if their parents hadn’t been bonded, maybe they would have been able to escape the sad path that life had traced for them. Maybe Steve and Bucky would have seen things differently.

They had loved each other, deeply. They had promised to take care of each other forever. They would remain together, he and him, till the end of line. They wouldn’t bond because they would stand side by side and be strong together and would not need anyone else. Nothing would tear them apart, not even Bucky’s beta girls.

It should have been like this. Him and Bucky. Forever. But Bucky died and then Steve died too and he woke up in a new century and he met Tony.

Steve never needed an Alpha, never _wanted_ an Alpha. And there he was, letting Tony do everything he wanted with him. At the beginning he pretended to hate it, he pretended it happened because he couldn’t resist, because it was in his nature. He doesn’t anymore. Lying to yourself is the worst sort of lie.

He had stopped lying to himself a while ago but it wasn’t until he met Bucky again that he knew. He knew that Tony was his Alpha and would be no matter what. Because when he met the Winter Soldier, the moment their eyes met and he recognized his former lover he didn’t feel happy like he likes to pretend. He didn’t feel joy or relief. No, the first, very first, thing he felt was a pang in his chest and the immeasurable urge to see Tony, to feel him, to smell him and be surrounded by his scent and be captured and kept safe against him and never let go. And for the first time, he brought his hand to his neck where the bonding gland was pulsating and it had never hurt that much, missing the mark that should have been there.

He doesn’t know when it happened. It just happened. Maybe it had happened a long time ago. Maybe it had already happened that second time. Maybe it happened when his heart stopped when he saw Tony falling from the sky. Maybe it happened during their first time, on the helicarrier, on the training room floor while Steve was panting, helpless and pliant under Tony. Maybe he had already given him everything then. Or maybe, maybe it happened in Shield headquarters, that very first day they met. Maybe it happened before they even got to see each other. Maybe that’s when it happened. And Steve had tried to resist, he had tried everything to prevent it. But it just happened. He was doomed. Now he wants it more than anything. The bond mark.

Of course, Steve denied all of this, this _need_ to be marked and possessed. _Bonded_. The aching pain he felt when he touched his gland. He didn’t, he _doesn’t_ want to need this and he hated himself for that. He still hates himself for that because he realized that he can’t escape anymore. He wants to be with Tony, all the time, and it becomes harder and harder to fight this.  

 

After that, he felt all those things he should have about Bucky, because Bucky wasn’t only his lover. He was, he _is_ also his best friend, his brother, the only thing he has now that connects him to his past and most of all, Bucky is the promise he has never been able to keep. He needs to find him, to make up for it. He has a lot of things to make up for. He failed him, he failed to save him, he failed their ideals, he failed the promise they made each other to always be together. He _abandoned_ him. 

He absolutely needs to find him. He can’t give up on him. He just can’t. Not now, not after everything he’s been through. He only wishes Tony could see that. He wishes he would stop being jealous and insecure and see how important this is to him but Tony is self-obsessed and self-centered.

He wonders sometimes, what Bucky would think of him if he saw how low he came to be. The real Bucky, the Bucky from before. He isn’t sure how much of the real Bucky is left in the Winter Soldier. He tried to kill him after all. But maybe he did because Steve failed him. Who knows? What would he feel if Bucky were to betray him the way he had betrayed Bucky?

He can hear his judgmental little voice in his head, mocking him. Would he be disappointed? Would he be jealous? Would he hate him? The same way Steve hated himself?

Sometimes he dreams about being bonded for real, letting Tony mark him for eternity, being his and give him everything. He wants it, more and more, and sometimes he wonders what is the point of denying himself this. Tony is everything to him, they both know that. He just thinks that he gave up too much of himself for Tony, too much of his ideals, too much of who he was and wanted to be, who he is  _still_ trying to be.

He is not that kind of omega.

He’s free. He’s independent. He’ll never submit. Never. He’ll never bond. _Never_.

Because when he does, he will have lost himself completely, he will no longer exist on his own.

He’s not that kind of omega.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who wondered. Bucky will not come and live in the tower before chapter 10 or 11. Slow build...


	7. I know...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your comments and kudos. :D
> 
> So... another disappointing chapter to read. I hope you enjoy anyway... ;-)
> 
> Also, someone pointed out to me that their first times sounded like rape. It wasn't my intention at all, so I changed a few things, if you wanted to know. It's just a few words. If you ever take the time to read the changes, please tell me if it still sounds like rape or not. Cause it wasn't.

**Washington DC, May 2014**

 

He’s confused. Very confused.

He never misses his target. It has never happened before and yet, twice he missed his chance to eliminate the blond.

The first time the blond wasn’t his target but he was in the way. He was strong, and fast, as strong and as fast as he was. Maybe even more. And it felt oddly familiar. It was the smell. 

It smelled _omega_.

He doesn’t know what omega is. He never saw or met omega. There is no omega at the base. He doesn’t understand what it means. But there are things he just knows.

This is the kind of things he knows. 

That first time, the blond almost killed him. He threw a shield at him. A shield that he knew was Captain America’s. He knows about Captain America. He is a soldier, like him, but he works for the wrong people. Karpov told him about Captain America. He would be a target one day, but not that day. That first time he really hadn’t expected to meet Captain America in flesh and blood.

When he caught the shield with his metal arm there was something strange about it. Something weird, something scary, something that makes his stomach churn. Something _familiar_. As if he had seen it before.

He _had_ seen it before, on pictures. Karpov had showed him, but it wasn’t the same thing. It felt different. It was like the things he sees. The things that are too complicated, the things he is not supposed to see and that he _should_ _not_ see.

Then he saw  _him_ , their eyes met. Blue eyes like his own. _Angry eyes_. His heart skipped in his chest, he felt _something_. He didn’t know what it was. It was too complicated, weird. It was not something he was used to. It was not hungry, it was not thirsty, it was not tired, it was not content or not content. It was different. It was new and, yet, familiar, oddly familiar, like it was him but not really him. Like it was him in another world, another time, another dimension. 

He _knew_ that look, that angry look. He knew it, deep inside his head, deep inside his heart. He knew those eyes, he had met those eyes before. He was sure. Maybe a long time ago, maybe in another life. He couldn’t remember but he knew. _There are some things he just knows._

Their eyes just met for a second. A second that lasted an eternity. The smell startled him, the familiar omega smell. He knew that smell too. It was like the things he sees and feels sometimes, but this time it was real. It was not a dream, it was happening in real life. It was him and not someone else. It was him, here and now, not the memories of the guy in his head. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before.

But something was wrong. This smell, it wasn’t exactly the smell he knew. It was and it wasn’t. Omega smell means safe and happy and comfort. The blond omega smelled confusion, anger and fear.

This was wrong. It was not supposed to be this way. Omegas shouldn’t smell like fear. This was wrong, so very wrong. It made him feel nauseous, in a way it had never happened. 

When he got back to the base after that first time, he lied. He lied about feeling and seeing things. He never lies, he always tells Karpov when there are things in his head that shouldn’t be there. He doesn’t lie because he’s not supposed to lie, he knows it. Lying means punishment. He doesn’t like those. And he doesn’t lie because he hates them. The things he sees. He doesn’t want them. But that day he lied, because he didn’t want to lose this, he didn’t want them to erase them. He wanted to remember the blond omega. He did' really know why but he wanted to see the blond omega again. He wanted to feel his heart skip in his chest again. 

The second time he met the blond omega, he _was_ a target, but he wasn’t supposed to kill him. He was supposed to capture him. He did. He captured him. It was hard, he had underestimated him. He had never met someone as strong before. And he knew how to fight, and he was smart. Smart and fast and strong. It was very hard to capture him but he did it.

He shouldn’t have.

He should have killed him. No matter what Karpov had said, he should have killed him. The blond omega should be dead, he belongs to the past, just like the guy in his head. The man who died, in the hands of the blond omega.

That second time, he felt another scent. A scent that he knows about too. A scent he had smelled before. The strong and aggressive scent of _alpha_. He doesn’t know what alpha is. He never saw or met alpha. There is no alpha at the base. The first time he had smelled the alpha she wasn’t a target. She was in the way. He had shot her and she had survived. He hadn’t known what she was before. He knew now. She was alpha and the blond was omega. Alpha and omega bond. Those were the things he just knows. Those two were not bonded, though and he knew that. He didn't know how he knew it but he just knew.

That second time the alpha _was_ target but he wasn’t supposed to kill her. He needed to capture her. He was on her. _He had her._

And then, the blond threw his shield at him and they fought and he was fast and strong and smart. And he had tried to kill him but he was strong and fast and smart and he managed to get away. The blond had incapacitated his arm. He had lost his mask and the blond omega saw his face. 

The man stopped. Paralyzed in shock. Their eyes met again. The omega was confused again, very confused and dumbfounded and he opened his mouth to say something but he didn’t. 

The smell was so familiar. So familiar and he could see pictures in his head. _Things_. He could feel them too, he could hear them. It was familiar and foreign and hot and happy and sad and angry and worried and melancholic and cheerful and disappointed and frustrated and confusing, very confusing--  _and too much_... He doesn’t know about these concepts. He doesn’t know about feelings. He hates feelings.

"Bucky?" The omega asked.

 _Bucky_. He knows that word. It’s a name. He heard it, plenty of time, in his head. He heard this name pronounced in thousand different ways. He heard it said, shouted, laughed, whispered, slurred, screamed. He heard every version of it. He remembers now. But the name is not _his_ name. He doesn’t have a name. He is the soldier. He is the asset. _Bucky,_ that's someone else’s name. Someone he doesn't know about. Someone who died long ago.

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

He didn’t let the omega answer that. He fled. He never flees. Never. Not until his mission is accomplished. But this time he fled, because He knew. He felt it and it scared him.

He _knows_ what he is now. 

It’s _too much_. Too many emotions, too many memories. And he feels hot. So hot inside. Hot like he hasn’t felt in a long time. Hot like he hasn’t felt ever, but _his body remembers_. His body remembers feeling like this and his body remembers the blond omega and the way he whispered his name. He whispered it so sensually and he moaned and groaned in the back of his throat. He remembers how hot the omega's skin felt under his touch and he remembers his wet and soft mouth on him. He remembers the omega’s hands roaming over his burning skin, soothing the pain. He can see the omega bent over and open in front of him. He can feel his hand sinking inside him, deeper and deeper into the moist heat of him. He can hear him scream his name. _Bucky, Bucky, BUCKY!_

_And it's cold, freezing cold and bright, white as snow, and the wind his burning his skin and his body feels numb and his arm is tearing apart and the omega screams and he’s falling and falling and he’s dying._

_He needs to get away._ He needs to get away so he can breathe again. He’s confused, very confused. Twice he failed to kill the blond omega. The blond omega belongs to the past. He needs to die. 

He needs to kill the blond omega. He must kill the blond omega. He will kill him. The next time he sees him he will kill him. It will make it stop. The pain, the heat inside. It will stop when he kills the omega and then he will stop seeing things. He will stop feeling this pain, this ache, the roiling inside. Everything will stop and he will go back to sleep when he’s content, safe and comfortable. 

He goes to Karpov and they inject him something and the burning stops. And they strap him to the chair and put the electrodes on his temples and then, there is pain. Unbearable pain. He struggles and screams and he can feel them leaving him. The thoughts, the memories, the things he felt. They’re all going away. Everything is going away and everything is blank again. 

He is a soldier. He is the asset and he will do whatever is asked of him. But for now... For now, he can go back to sleep. He can find the safe and comforting darkness again. He feels content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. We'll see Tony soon.


	8. This is goodbye.

You can say it all you want about Captain America, that he is good and righteous and noble and everything. And maybe it’s true. Maybe he really is all that perfect. But Steve Rogers? Steve Rogers is a very cruel man.

If Tony ever thought he was a powerful Alpha, he was plainly wrong. Or maybe he was powerful, maybe he _is,_ but even if he is, he was overpowered long ago. Overpowered by a much stronger and much more powerful Omega. Steve Rogers will be the end of him. He knows it and has known since that very first day, when they met in SHIELD Headquarters.

His life did a 180 degree turn on that day.

He was _The_ Alpha, everyone wanted him and he could have anyone. That’s how he wanted it to be. Not being tied to anyone, keep enjoying everyone’s company. No strings attached. The good life, the single life...

Instead, he has been reduced to follow one _omega_ around, like a puppy.

He is pathetic. A pathetic and sad little man, led by the nose, by the _cock,_ by an omega. _The_  Omega. Trailing behind him and picking up the small bits and crumbs he is willing to leave behind. Tony tried everything to catch up, everything to finally get him, make him his and bond with him like it is supposed to be. But no matter what he’ll do, no matter how far he’ll go, Steve Rogers is and remains unattainable. Out of reach. Out of his grasp. Steve Rogers keeps running and running away from him, outrunning him, exhausting him a little bit more each day. Until Tony’s heart won’t be able to take it anymore. Until it explodes in his chest, until he breaks apart. 

Tony was a little bit confused at first. That’s not what he had learnt about alphas and omegas. That’s not how it was supposed to be. He was the Alpha. Alphas demand, Omegas comply. Alphas want, Omegas give. Alphas command and Omegas submit. 

Steve Rogers does not comply, he does not submit. He never has. Not to Tony anyway.

He doesn’t give, he _takes_.

Oh he _is_ submissive, _in bed_. Probably the most submissive omega he’s ever met. In bed, he drops on all four and takes everything Tony will give him. And Tony gives and gives and gives, until there’s nothing left. That’s not submission. That has nothing to do with submission. Submission should be given freely. It is a gift, the most precious gift any alpha could get. It is a promise, of something real, something beautiful, something so precious he would die for it. He _would_ give his life for Steve Rogers, any time. He had already and he would again. He would do anything for Steve Rogers. Anything. 

That gift, that responsability, Tony had never wanted it before but now he craves for it. He craves so much he feels like he is rotting inside. Steve Rogers is such a cruel _cruel_ man.

They could have bonded, he could have marked him, plenty of times before. Steve’s resolve is not as strong as he likes to pretend when he gets fucked and knotted. He's letting go around Tony, more and more. He is not defensive like he was at the beginning. Maybe he even trusts him a little. Tony could have taken advantage, but he wouldn’t. He doesn't want that. He wants Steve to want it too, to accept the bond, like he has wanted and accepted his cock, and his knot. He won’t force a bond on him, a bond he doesn’t want, because he knows the minute he comes back to himself Steve will hate him. Tony has seen Steve’s hatred before. That first day they met. He felt it and he never ever wants to live that again. It would kill him.

For three years, he has tried and failed to conquer Steve. Today is the day when he gives his very last gift. Today is the day he finally gives up. He’s not strong enough. He's not strong, not good, not anything enough for Steve. Today is the day he will give Steve everything he’s ever wanted, because that’s what he does. He gives, even if this is the last thing he wants to do. Even if it’s breaking his heart. Even if it’s killing him. Today he will let Steve go.

He pours himself a drink. He has stopped drinking a while ago, Steve made him, but he thinks he deserved one today. He can hear the resolute steps of one determined super soldier coming his way. He doesn’t turn around though, it hurts too much. 

"You wanted to see me." He hears the deep voice of the omega ask. The blond has stopped and is standing behind him, but not too close. He never does. He always keeps his distance, even more so lately, when all they do is fight. Tony keeps his back turned to him and doesn’t turn around. 

"I want you to suck my dick." He says, and he knows Steve won’t. He knows asking this is stupid, because he has already given up, but he can’t help it. He can’t stop himself from hoping. Hoping things will change, hoping that it’s not only in his head that he’s Steve’s alpha. Hoping that what they share is true. Hoping that it's much more. Much more than that.

"Now?" The voice is not angry, rather tired and defeated and maybe a little bit suspicious. 

"Yeah now. What’s wrong with now?"

"I thought you’d called me about something important."

"Isn’t it? Isn’t it important? to please your alpha?"

Steve sighs. "That’s not what I meant..." He doesn’t say anything about the drink but Tony knows he’s unhappy about it, especially this early in the day. He doesn’t need to see his face to know this. He knows him all too well. 

"What _did_ you mean then?"

"I’m not your call boy, Tony. And you really don’t have to call me for that."

"Yeah, you’re not. I’m not sure what you are, actually..." He didn’t mean to sound so bitter but he can’t help it. Giving up on Steve is much harder than he thought. "I wouldn’t have to call you for this if you would just accept to live here." _Like you’re_ _supposed_ _to_. He knows it’s stupid. Steve will be out of life soon enough. There’s no need for this. No need for any reproaches, wishes or demands. It’s too late for that. He’s already made his decision.

"Did you call me here to pick up a fight?"

Tony doesn’t answer immediately. He considers Steve’s words. Did he? He didn’t. He called Steve to let him free. He didn’t mean that, but it hurts so much. All the pain, the frustration all these years accumulated, it just pours out of him.

Steve doesn’t let him give any answer, anyway. "I’m fed up with all of this. Can’t we just enjoy each other without all the drama for once?"

Tony finally turns to face him. Steve looks tired and he feels guilty for a moment. Is it because of him?

No, it’s not. Steve just never stops. And when it’s not a mission, it’s Barnes. He can’t just let it go. He can’t just take a break from it. It’s gonna be a relief for him, then. Tony’s gonna give him that, because Tony gives. He gives. He gives and Steve takes.

Steve looks so tired and sorry and Tony doesn’t wanna fight. He _didn’t_ wanna fight. He just wanted one last time with him. One last embrace, one last moment. Something to remind them that they were intimate once.

Steve sees it, maybe. Or maybe he feels the same. Tony would never know that. He never ever unraveled the mystery that is Steve Rogers. "Tony..." Steve gasps and he chokes on his words. He just looks into his eyes and closes the distance between them. Steve invades his personal space and imposes his strong body on Tony, he takes the glass out of his hand and puts it away. 

The kiss is chaste and uncertain at first, as if they were kissing for the first time, but soon Steve grows confident and messy. He is so hot under Tony’s touch and starts groaning shamefully. Tony is hanging back, Steve is too eager. It scares him. He doesn’t want this to break him, Steve is so close to break him.

He steps back, puts a gentle hand on Steve’s shoulder and pushes him slighly away. Steve is watching him with melancholic eyes, but there’s lust in there. Tony slides his hand up his neck and cups his jaw. He strokes his thumb on Steve’s warm skin, caresses his cheek and brushes his lips. Steve’s chest is heaving, he’s breathing hard. His lips part and Tony slips the tip of his thumb inside. Steve moans and licks and never stops staring into Tony’s eyes. Tony holds his stare, he slips his thumb out of Steve’s mouth and slides his hand down his neck, giving a soft pressure on his shoulder. He doesn’t need to say it. Steve knows what he wants. He will comply, he will let him do what he wants, just like he always does. He always lets Tony have his way with him, but he doesn’t give. Steve Rogers never gives, he takes. He won’t even give him a blowjob. If Tony wants one, he’ll have to take it himself. 

Steve slides on his knees, reluctantly. But it’s all an act, he wants Tony to force him down in his knees. He wants Tony to push him further. Further than he would ever dare on his own. Steve is waiting, hands behind, expecting some kind of punishment for this. And Tony can feel in every bone of his body how much it arouses him, how much he wants it. So Tony gives him, because Tony gives and Steve takes. He gives a soft slap and makes Steve's eyes shine with want and moan like a slut and then he forcefully opens his mouth. He takes his cock out because Steve would never reach for it himself, even if he craves for it. He slaps his dick on his face and brings him closer, seizing him behind the neck. Tony is rock hard. Steve’s scent of arousal just puts him on the edge. He can already smell the slick down there. 

Steve’s mouth is soft and burning hot. It’s heaven. He pushes inside slowly but vigorously, never stopping until the head taps against the back of his throat. Steve can’t breathe like this. And Tony stays there, holding firmly his head with both hands, forcing him to look up, until his face goes red. Steve takes it, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t protest. He’s soaking his pants with slick. His eyes have lost any glimpse of melancholy. They are burning with lust and desire. It’s filthy and sinful and so erotic. 

And Tony pulls out, dragging out a thread of spit with it. Steve gasps and catches his breath before opening his mouth wider. He knows what’s gonna happen next. Tony penetrates again, sliding the head of his cock on Steve’s tongue. He plays with it a little, thrusting in and out in a slow motion and then he pushes all the way in. This time he goes further, he pushes inside, all the way down and chokes him with his cock. Tony is big, he’s a powerful Alpha but Steve can take it. He swallows it all. He doesn’t even gag anymore. Tony shoves it in up to the hilt and Steve is drooling on his balls. His face goes red again as he instinctively tries to breathe. Tony pulls out, lets him breathe and thrusts in again, but this time he doesn’t stay inside. He fucks Steve’s mouth hard, violating his throat each time. Pushing in and pulling out at a punishing rhythm. Steve is gonna be sore, his voice rasp and broken as Tony brutalizes his vocal chords. And maybe Tony will feel a bit proud about that. 

Steve whimpers and moans over the hard rod. He’s soaking wet and hard in his pants. At some point, he drops his eyes, it’s become too hard for him to keep looking at Tony. He wants to touch himself, find some relief to this pain Tony’s inflicting. But Tony’s too rough, too brutal for him to do it. He can barely hold his position. His strong grip on Tony’s thighs is the only thing that stops him from falling back. He wouldn’t even if he could, because he thinks Tony wouldn’t let him. Tony would. Tony would let him do anything he wanted. He would even let him fuck his ass if he wanted to. Steve just needs Tony to forbid him things. At least, that’s what Tony supposes. So he does, he punishes him, denies him, pounds hard until it hurts, until tears drip down his cheeks. 

He forces his head up, he makes him look at him so he can admire the mess he’s made of him. Steve is so hot like that, face flustered and puffed, eyes fluttering, red with tears. His moans and sobs muffled by the big cock opening his mouth. His throat moving with the intrusion, making his Adam’s apple bob. Tony wishes he would cry for real sometimes, for him. Just like he did, so many times, in the darkness of his lonely room, hidden in the sheets of his empty bed, still warm and smelling of omega.  It didn’t happen that much often, he’s alpha after all. Alphas don’t cry. But it happened enough for him to be ashamed of himself. Steve though, never shed a real tear for him. Steve doesn’t cry. It’s such a cliche that omegas cry all the time, ‘cause they don’t, unless you force the tears out of their eyes with your cock.

Tony fucks harder and faster, he’s close. He’s gonna coat Steve throat with his come and knot him. He thrusts hard and pulls his head with both hands, so hard Steve lets go of his thighs and loses balance. It doesn’t matter, Tony holds him tight. He feels the orgasm take him over and thrust one last time, deeper, and spends himself in a loud groan, arching his back and throwing his head behind to feel every inch of Steve’s throat when he comes. He gives Steve everything, every drop and doesn’t give him the choice. He buries his seeds deep down his throat. And then it grows, the knot, it expands inside Steve’s throat, choking him. He can take it. Tony trained him. He can’t breathe but he takes the knot. Tony can read the disappointment of his face and feels proud at the tears running down, dripping down his neck. This is not what Steve wanted, he wanted Tony to fuck him and knot him, for real. This is what he wants from him. This is _the only thing_ he wants from Tony. But Tony isn’t a good man. He’s not gonna grant him that. So Steve takes it, he takes it all, like a good omega. He takes the knot that probably burns his throat, makes his head spin and his body shake all over and feels grateful for it, like a good omega should.

Tony pulls out just in time. Steve’s chin and neck are a mess of spit and come. His face is still red and wet from the tears. He’s panting, hard and slow, catching his breath. He doesn’t want to look at Tony, he’s too ashamed and too aroused to face him, but Tony holds his head in his hands, purposely. He doesn’t let him get away with this. Not this time. For once Steve could admit that he wanted it, that he loved it. His body doesn’t lie. His pants are stretched to a maximum and Tony can smell the arousal and the slick. Steve is trembling in his hands, mouth half-open, he’s trying and failing to keep himself from moaning but Tony can hear the low keening behind his throat. His eyes are begging. He needs to be taken and knotted. This is what he needs even if he’ll never admit it, not to Tony anyway.

Fuck it. How in hell did he ever think he could just deny Steve anything? Steve wants, Tony gives. 

He just came but Tony is a powerful alpha. He’s got enough seeds and stamina to breed half a dozen of omegas, he can handle Steve’s sexual appetite just fine. Even now, when he’s not as young as he pretends to be.

Steve knows Tony is gonna give him everything. Everything he needs. He is waiting. He won’t show anything, he won’t offer himself. He will just wait until Tony takes him. He will pretend Tony is doing this because he wants to. He does want to, but he’s doing it for Steve. 

Tony takes his hand and tugs him up on his feet. Then he leads him to the bedroom. Steve stands in the middle of the room, eyes begging and lips parted. His chest is heaving with excitement. His movements are raw and abrupt, controlled by an overwhelming desire. Even now, he won’t submit. Even now, Tony will need to force him on his knees. He wants it though, scents don’t lie. Tony can smell his spiced up scent growing stronger, invading the room. Steve is this close to tear his clothes away and crawl to him, but he’s waiting for Tony to submit him. 

He’s rock hard again. He can’t resist Steve. He never could and never will be able to. 

He steps closer to Steve, until their chests almost touch. He buttons down his shirt, delicately, as if opening a fragile gift. The shirt slides down his broad shoulders and Tony plants a chaste kiss there. He wants to enjoy the omega’s perfect body one last time. He wants to enjoy every inch of him, get intoxicated with his sweet smell, get drunk with it one last time, before Steve refuses him. 

Then he trails his mouth along Steve’s collarbone, kissing his way up his neck. He licks and nibbles at the bonding gland, unmarked, untouched and pulsating painfully. Steve flinches and draws his head back. His body jerks and trembles under Tony’s touch. He moans, oh so pleasurable and erotic noises, but he doesn’t protest. Not like he used to. Tony licks, nips but he’s not pushing his luck as far as trying to bite mark him. Steve doesn’t want it, he’s not going to spoil this for them, their last time together, with another fight.

He licks the sweat, salty and spicy, tinged with addictive omega smell. This is the most delicious taste, all of Steve is so delicious and appetizing and enthralling. He can never get tired of this. Steve groans and trembles, he brings his fidgety hands on Tony’s shoulder. 

Tony buries his head in the crook of his neck, inhaling as much of his scent as he can. He’s gonna miss this, all of it, so much. He feels the need to cry, he almost does, in the warm and comforting embrace of his omega. But he won’t do this to Steve. It’s hard enough as it is without him adding some guilty feelings into it. He doesn’t need Steve’s sympathy. 

He starts working Steve’s pants open as a distraction. Steve lets him do everything he wants. He just waits. He pulls the damp pants and underwear down slowly, Steve marvelously beautiful cock springs out. It’s wet at the tip. Tiny slides the pants down, worshiping every curves of Steve’s perfect muscles, his pale skin, his blond hair. He licks and smells and bites until he is on his knees, at Steve’s feet. He gestures him to raise his legs so he can finally throw the last of Steve’s clothes out of the way.

Steve shivers and goosebumps, his knees tremble and he makes the most exquisite noises. Tony sits up straight on his knees and grabs Steve by the hips. He tastes the bead of precum dripping on the tip of Steve's cock, drawing out a keening noise out of his mouth and then Tony slides his mouth around the burning hard rod. Steve’s cock feels amazing in his mouth, it fits perfectly and tastes like heaven. He licks the head and plays with the foreskin a little before swallowing it. He starts sucking up and down the shaft, appreciating every inch of it. Steve’s hands automatically go on each side of his head and give him a desperate pressure. He moans shamelessly now. 

Tony doesn’t do this often, but he enjoys it a lot. He loves the feel of Steve’s cock in his mouth, he loves to see him helpless like this. He just wishes Steve would like it as much as he did. He'd like Steve to like doing it as well but Steve needs to be facefucked, deepthroated hard, roughed up and violated. 

His hands slide on Steve’s sides and cup his asscheeks. He massages them for a while and starts spreading. Steve’s slick had never stopped flowing down and it’s reached down under his knees now. Tony slips his fingers in the slit and brushes his thumb on Steve’s entrance. Steve arches his back and stretch his rear to grant him access. His ass is already twitching open and begging. Tony pushes three fingers in one go. Steve is already open and ready, he doesn’t need to prepare him. He never did. Steve has always been warm and welcoming like this.

Steve hisses and gasps at the intrusion but his ass is so demanding. He pushes back eagerly on Tony’s fingers and thrusts into his mouth. It’s so hot Tony’s already dripping on his own unbuttoned pants. 

Steve’s knees wobble, he can’t stand it anymore, he needs it now. Tony knows. So he steadies him with a strong grip and lets go of his cock. He stands up and leads Steve down on the bed. Steve makes an instinctive movement to settle himself on his knees, upper body resting on the bed. He presents himself for Tony, pliant and offered. He purrs. Shame and embarrassment buried in the sheets. His ass his glowing in the late morning light, glistening with slick. This is the most beautiful view Tony has ever been able to see. He feels so lucky sometimes, when he can watch Steve like this. Steve will be the end of him. His cock jolts free of his pants, hard and leaking. He wants to mount him, fill him up, breed him, knot him, destroy him, tear him apart.

He hasn’t realized how long he’s been staring, admiring the view one last time, trying to imprint it in his memory forever. Steve whimpers in frustration, he wiggles his ass. He wants it. He wants to be fucked like that, on his knees, on Tony’s bed, until they’re knotted. He wants this so desperately. He always wanted it. Tony can feel it in the deepest part of himself. And yet, Steve will never admit it. When they're done, he will say he didn’t want it. He will find any kind of excuse to leave, eyes disdainful and mouth full of reproaches. 

Tony won’t let him. Not now, not today, not for their last moment together. He won’t let him pretend he doesn’t like it, that he’s doing it because Tony forces him. He turns him on his back and spread his legs wide. He wants to see him, every expression he makes, he wants to see the lust in his eyes, the pleasure distorting his features. 

Steve is surprised, they rarely did it missionary style, much too intimate. He’s blushing. Face flustered and eyes shining. He looks so vulnerable like that, open and submissive. He looks like he’s giving himself to Tony. He looks like he’s finally surrendered. He doesn't look like untamed Steve Rogers now, he looks like Tony’s omega. _Tony’s_. His bonding gland is throbbing more than ever, calling for Tony. The alpha resists to the sudden violent urge of biting it, making him his for real and forever. Steve doesn’t want this, he reminds himself. He doesn't want Tony. He’s _not_ Tony’s, he never was. 

Steve’s eyes are begging. _Take me. Take all of me. Ravish me. Make me yours. Impregnate me and keep me always._ Tony would have loved being that Alpha. He would kill to be this alpha, but it wasn’t meant to be. Steve wasn’t his, he was someone else’s. 

He wonders how Steve would look when in heat. Would he be resisting like he always does? Would he submit? Was it the reason he never wanted to share one with Tony? Because he was scared of submitting? He had stopped asking himself those hurting questions long ago. Still, watching Steve so offered, so vulnerable, legs spread as wide as he could and full body blushing, he couldn’t help but wonder. As far as he knows, Steve has only spent his heats with Barnes. But Steve isn’t with Barnes right now. He will be, soon, but for now he is with Tony, for Tony to enjoy.

Steve’s slick is dripping on the bed, calling for Tony. His cock hard on his stomach, jerking and leaking in his navel. Untouched, like Steve likes it to be, or maybe it’s him. He has spent so much time trying to please his omega he doesn’t remember what he likes anymore. Or maybe, they both like the same things.

Tony finally climbs on the bed, there’s no need to drag this any longer, make it harder than it already is. He crawls over Steve and settles between his thighs, palms on his chest. He feels the hard muscles, one last time, pinches his nipples and relishes in the sweet sexy noise he draws out of Steve, one last time. Steve is open, loving, expressing all his pleasure, his desire on his face and with the jerky movements of his arms. Tony breaches his entrance slowly and Steve gasps and whimpers. He is tense and tight like a virgin. He hardly is though. He hardly was when Tony fucked him for the first time. Tony doesn’t know how many alphas Steve had before him but he’s almost sure there were more than one. Not that it matters, Tony’s hardly a saint either.

Steve is embarrassed, he doesn’t like when Tony looks at him like that. This way Tony can see how much he wants it. He can see all his emotions displayed on his pretty face. He can see the lust, the abandon, the ecstasy in Steve's eyes. His lips are parted, panting hard and steady, his pupils blown, darkened with lust. His face changes as every inch of Tony’s cock penetrates him slowly but with strength. Tony fucks him with all he has. He gives him everything. It’s probably never been so intense before, the approaching end makes everything more intense. Steve is so sensitive, he doesn’t control his moans anymore. He’s all blushing and sweating, eyes lost. Tony ravishes him, ravishes his mouth. Steve’s tongue is mellow, wet and burning hot. He grabs onto him like his life depended on it. Tony drops his body on the strong chest of his omega, losing himself in his embrace. He loves him. He loves him so much and they’re making love, probably for the first time, and for the last. It’s heartbreaking and so much more intense.

Steve sobs in pleasure. Tony can’t even hear his own groans when Steve’s noises are so sexy and eager. He pounds into him desperately, and mumbles all the good things he thinks about his omega. Steve trembles under him, shivers at each words. He wraps his arms around Tony and buries his face in the crook of his Alpha’s neck. He holds him tight against him, as if to never let him go. He’s begging, silently. Begging for more, for harder. He doesn’t speak but Tony knows. He knows what he needs. He knows because Steve is his omega and Tony is Steve’s alpha, so he just knows. Steve wants it hard and rough. He wants Tony to break him but Tony doesn’t have it in him today. Today he just wants to make love, to be gentle and cuddle him lovingly in his arms. He wants to protect him and keep him safe. So that’s what he does. He keeps kissing his omega, everywhere, fondling every part of his body, leaving his mark in every curve and bumps of his body, imprinting his scent on him. Let himself have this at least. Their bodies slide and grind against each other, damp with sweat. Steve loses himself in Tony’s caresses. His body jerks and he comes in a long guttural cry, grabbing onto Tony with all his strength, until the alpha can’t breathe anymore. Steve's insides spasm around his cock, massaging him. He’s gonna come too. 

He pulls out and turns Steve on his stomach. He wants to knot him, one last time. And Steve does nothing to prevent it, on the contrary, he turns over and arches his back, opening himself up for Tony’s come and knot. And that is so hot that Tony’s heart almost fails him. He grabs Steve’s hips and buries his nails in his flesh, scratching the skin there, another mark of him on the omega, and he pounds hard into him. Steve pants and jerks, enjoying the last spasms of his orgasm. His ass is twitching and squeezing tight around Tony. He reaches Tony’s hips with both his arms and pulls the alpha deep inside of him with a strong grip, asking for his come, begging for his knot. And that’s all it takes for Tony to breed him. He spurts his seeds inside of the omega for the second time, buries them deep, deep in his womb. 

His knot expands solemnly, tying them together. It’s like heaven on earth. Steve is purring under him, sated and vanquished. For the first time, he’s not restless. For the first time he abandoned himself completely and relishes in the moment. He pulls Tony’s arms around him and nestles in his embrace. For the first time, and the last, they love each other like a bonded pair. Like alpha and omega, like it’s supposed to be. They both doze off and Steve falls asleep in Tony’s embrace, safe and protected under his powerful alpha’s body. 

When Tony wakes up, it’s been less that an hour. He’s still buried inside of Steve, cock limp, even though they both fell on the side. Not for long though. This is so hot that Tony grows hard again inside the moist warmth of his omega. Steve’s still sleeping but he whimpers at the growth. He instinctively moves his ass back, seeking the pleasure of Tony’s hard rod. And Tony gives him, again, he fucks slowly while Steve offers himself, dipping his cock in a pool of slick and cum. He comes silently, one last time inside the sleeping omega. He doesn’t knot him, because if he does he won’t be able to let this go. Steve wakes up and laugh. It’s a warm and gentle laugh. "I can’t believe you just came in my ass while I was asleep."

Tony kisses his shoulder gently. _I love you_. This is one of the saddest thing he’s done. "All your fault." He mumbles against Steve’s back. "You started it. Tease."

Steve turns around to face him and Tony’s cock feels cold suddenly. Slick and cum leak everywhere but neither of them care. Steve put his arms around Tony’s neck and pulls him for a kiss. They kiss langorously and it seems like they never stop. Letting Steve go is so hard. _I love you_.

Tony finally breaks the kiss. This is over. Today he’s letting Steve go. He’s gonna give him what he wants, what he always wanted, what he’s been seeking ever since he knew. 

He jumps out of bed and puts on some clothes. He doesn’t care if he’s sticky and smelling sex. He will keep Steve’s smell on him a little bit longer. Steve straightens up on his elbows, intrigued. "Where are you going?"

"Things to see, people to do, the usual..."

Steve doesn’t hide the disappointment on his face and it’s heartbreaking. He’s so unfair. So unfair to do this now. So cruel. Tony has already made his decision. "I was hoping we could spend some time together this afternoon."

Tony shakes his head. He can’t let Steve make him change his mind. "I can’t. Sorry."

"Can’t we at least have some lunch?"

"Nope. Sorry. You’re too busy for this. We’ve lost too much time already. You should get dressed."

"What are you talking about? I’m free all this week."

"Not for long, believe me. Once you know, having lunch with me will be the last thing you wanna do."

Steve sits up suddenly, panic in his eyes. "What’s wrong Tony? You’re scaring me. Did Fury or Hill contacted you while we were sleeping?"

Tony walks to the bed and runs a hand in Steve’s hair. At least, he tries to, because Steve is on Captain America mode and doesn’t indulge in Tony’s caring gestures.  "Nothing’s wrong baby. Don’t worry. It’s not Avengers business."

Steve looks up, eyes suspicious and expression worried. "That’s not really reassuring.Tony, just tell me what’s going on."

Tony sighs and whispers affectionately. "I’ve got something for you."

"Something for me?" Steve asks, tone disbelieving. "What thing?"

"Just put on some clothes, and maybe, take a shower? You’ll need it. In the meantime, I’ll have some lunch fixed for you and I’ll tell you all about it when you’re all clean and ready to go."

Steve doesn’t look convinced but he nods and heads for the bathroom. He knows he won’t win an argument against Tony so he gives up. 

Tony sighs. He can feel panic rising inside. This is so hard. A lump is swelling inside his throat and it’s become hard to breathe. He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to let Steve go, to let go of him. It all comes to him at once, the pain, the desperation, the heartbreak. It’s too much to take at once. He needs to sit down for a moment. His hands are shaking. He looks at them. He needs to brace himself. He can’t be like this when Steve gets out of the shower.

He forces his panic into submission, focusing on his tasks. He makes Steve’s lunch. It’s not in his habits to cook, but he can manage a sandwich or two and he knows how Steve likes them. He knows everything about Steve. He packs him some food and drinks. Enough for more than one meal. He’s gonna be gone for a while.

He’s all done when he hears Steve get out of the shower. He’s tapping his fingers nervously on the files he’s gonna give him. He can feel his eyes prickle. His heart is pounding hard in his chest. He’s trying to steady his breathing. He feels like he's dying inside. 

He can hear Steve’s steps in the hallway. He’s all ready and clean. Tony looks up when Steve stops in front of him. He’s struck again by the beauty of him. How had he forgotten about that? Steve was so handsome, all blond and fresh, his blue eyes casting an intense and worried look. 

"What’s this?" His deep voice asks, sounding even more suspicious than the look on his face.

Tony hands him the lunch pack, or more like pushes it onto his chest. "It’s for you." He knows perfectly well that Steve meant the file but he can’t find it in himself to tell him yet. 

Steve takes the lunch with a tentative smile, but it fails, too much worry probably, or annoyance, Tony isn’t sure. He manages to look grateful anyway. His eyes keep staring at the files in Tony’s hand though. "What’s in the files?" He finally asks while Tony is still admiring the blue of his eyes. _I love you. It’s too hard to let you go_.

"Your next destination." Tony deadpans, handing the files to him. Steve’s eyes open wide in astonishment as well as suspicion but Tony answers his question before he has the time the time to ask it. "I found Barnes."

And Tony can’t find the words to describe the look on Steve’s face as he said it. He looks like a kid who’s just been given his favorite toy for Christmas by Santa himself. A mix of surprise, excitement, gratefulness and admiration. He’s dumbfounded, unable to find his words, like Tony just handed him the moon.

There’s so much admiration there, admiration and faith and trust. And it’s so hard to see that in his eyes, right now. He looks just like when Tony says something nerdy or invent something new, or make a stupid joke that only makes Steve laugh. Steve’s always laughed at his jokes. And he looks so young and cute and admirative and it makes him feel old in comparison. And he wonders, he wonders if that’s what he was to Steve for all these years, the father he never had, the alpha he didn’t grow up with, the alpha who kept him safe, who grounded him in this new foreign century. Maybe that’s what he was to him, and if he was that, at least, it was something. And now like a good dad, he’s going to let him go and so he can find his lover and live his life, away from Tony.

"Tony, how did— How?"

"Just had Jarvis on it for weeks. He’s been spying on all the cameras, all the money transaction, all the texts, the photos published on social media, everything on the internet, searching for anything that we could connect to Barnes."

And the awe on Steve’s face and the amazement in his voice makes it sound like something absolutely exceptional. It’s not. Tony could have done this months ago. He just didn’t want to lose Steve. He wanted to keep him for himself, wanted to believe, but there’s no point. He can’t really lose Steve, Steve was never his to lose. 

He offers the omega a tender, paternal smile and pats his shoulder. "Now, you should get ready. It’s pretty cold in Siberia." And he pushes him subtly toward the door. Steve holds onto his lunch and the files like it the most precious treasure. Steve needs to go now. This needs to stop, because it’s too much for Tony.

"You’re not coming with me?" Steve asks hopefully, voice hurt, and Tony startles.

He looks at Steve, bearing his eyes into the omega's blue pools one last time. "Steve, come on. Don’t do this to me, okay? You don’t want me there!"

Steve looks at him shyly, his eyes are hopeful but his smile is resigned, his voice constricted. "Of course, I want you there. I always do. You’re my mate."

He says all this as if it was so obvious he didn't even need to say it. Tony can't take it. He pushed Steve to the doors all the time they were talking. Now Steve is in front of the door, still smiling but with a worried expression. "Please Babe," Tony pleads. "don’t make this any harder."

Now the smile is completely gone and Steve is downright worried. "What do you mean _Don’t make this any harder_?" Steve’s voice raises in panic. "Make what harder?" 

Tony’s voice in comparison is calm and soft. "You know what. You were never the stupid kind, Captain." He sighs. "I’ll see you around."

"What do you mean ‘I’ll see you around’? It's just a few days. I’ll see you when I get back." Steve talks to fill the silence but as the words come out of his mouth, realization seems to appear on his face. He whispers now. Knowing but still asking, hoping maybe? "Why did you call me ‘Captain?' You never call me ’Captain.’ "  Now Steve’s looks pained and restless. His moves are abrupts and fidgety. "Tony..." He whispers, but it sounds almost like a whine.

It’s so hard. Giving up on Steve is the hardest thing he’s ever done. His heart is pounding in his chest, it hurts. He feels empty inside and at the same time, his stomach is churning. His whole self is in a turmoil and Steve’s hurt face makes him feel nauseous. 

He pushes the tall omega towards the door, not so subtly now, with a silent plea. _Just go. Go find him. Just know that I loved you_. 

Steve resists and he can. "Tony, what are you doing?" He pleads and his voice is broken, almost like a whisper. "Are you breaking up with me?" So broken and low Tony needs to guess the last part of his sentence for Steve's last words get stuck in his throat. 

"Don’t be stupid Captain... There’s nothing to break up. Jarvis? Open the door, Steve is leaving." The door opens and Tony pushes Steve out of the penthouse, trying to ignore how devastated he looks rights now. Steve resists and in a fit of anger he grabs the doorframe and pushes Tony back inside. "No." He shouts in panic but soon controls himself. "Is that it?" He shouts angrily. "Are you gonna close that door on me forever? Just like this? Without even telling me why?"

"Come on Cap, we both know that the next time you’ll knock on that door I will open it, for you, just like I always do." Tony keeps his tone calm and resigned, he doesn’t how he can do this while Steve on the other hand is losing control. Maybe it’s because he feels so empty right now.

"Stop calling me ‘Cap.’ I was never your Captain. Don’t insult those three years we were together. Doesn’t that mean something to you? Why are you doing this? Tony, please." The voice started angry but ended up begging, constricted. 

Tony pushes Steve out again and makes him stumble on his feet. "You know very well why. Now please just go. Go find you lover."

Steve stops in his attempt at coming back inside. He looks surprised and confused and soon his face turns white, his eyes shining with prickling tears. "He’s not my lover, Tony." He chokes out. And then he starts to hiccup and his words come out broken and jerky. "You are." He sniffles. "You can’t do this to me, Tony. I need you."

Steve looks so devastated that it breaks him apart. He brings a gentle hand on his cheek as an attempt to the appease the turmoil that seem to boil inside the omega. "Of course you don’t. You’re gonna be fine. You’ll find him. You’ll find your alpha. Don’t worry. Everything’s  gonna be fine. And I’ll always be there for you. Always. Whenever you need me, I'll be there." _I love you_.

Steve brusquely grabs Tony's hand and pulls it away while trying to impose his strong built on Tony again, but the look on his face and the broken sound of his sobbing voice contrasts with the attitude. "No, Tony. You’re wrong. Bucky’s not—"

"shhh" Tony interrupts while putting his finger on Steve’s mouth to shut him up.

Steve's face is wet with tears and his voice struggles and chokes on his words while he hiccups. "No, Tony, wait." He pushes Tony’s finger away. "Let me explain... this is a misunderstanding... you need to believe me. Bucky’s not—"

"I don’t wanna hear it. You need to go now. You’ve lost enough time. Just go."

"NO." He shouts desperately. "No, I can’t. I can’t go like this, not without telling you the truth. Please Tony. Bucky’s not my lover anymore. You need to believe me. Bucky can’t— Bucky’s not—"

"SHUT UP OMEGA!"

Steve stops instantly.

It was unfair to do that. He shouldn’t have done that, use his alpha voice to his advantage. But he couldn't deal with it anymore. He is this close to break down. He just can’t hear anymore of Steve's excuses.

Steve’s little hysterical omega crisis comes to an end. He quickly comes back to himself and soon, any sign of distress is gone from his face. He’s on full Captain America mode now. 

"We’re not done." He commands. "As soon as I get back we talk about this."

"Sure." And Tony close the door.

It’s done. He finally let go of Steve and it was harder that he had ever imagined, even in his worst nightmares. Steve’s desperate face holding onto him, to his only anchor in this world, to the only alpha he had during those four years he’d been here would haunt him for the rest of his life. Steve was omega after all, and omegas need alpha. So maybe, Tony was more to Steve than he ever thought. 

It doesn’t change anything. Tony might have been important to Steve at one point in his life, but for Tony, Steve would always be his omega, his one and only omega, while Steve would go back to his real alpha, his soulmate, whatever he and Barnes are, whatever they share.

Now Tony can finish his drink, and even the bottle why not? And he can start wallowing in self-pity and self-hatred. 

He can be proud though. He finally did it. He managed to make Steve cry for him, for real. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it. 
> 
> I won't be able to write for a while. I'll try.


	9. A whirlwind of memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW!!! Thank you everyone for reading this and bearing with all my shit. Thank you so much for your nice messages. It was so amazing to come back home to. You boosted me up! 
> 
> I'm so sorry I made some of you cry, this is just the beginning... You will probably hate this story soon. Hope you keep reading and commenting though, even if it's to trash me. It's so rewarding to know what you think! :D

**_Hydra Siberian base, Now_**

Karpov is dead.

The others are dead too, or they escaped. It’s because of him. He didn’t mean it. They tried to eliminate him and he doesn’t like dying. Dying is cold and bright, so bright it stings your eyes, so cold it burns your lungs when you breathe. And his arm... his arm is tearing apart. And the omega, the blond omega is screaming. And he is falling... He's falling, into oblivion. 

He doesn’t like dying. He didn’t want to die.

He didn't. He's still here, but they're not and he's restless. Karpov is dead and he doesn’t like it.

He doesn’t know what to do anymore. He wants to go back to sleep, to the emptiness, to the dark and comforting hollow of sleep. He wants to go back there, but he can’t. There's no-one here to send him there. He tried to do it on his own though. He took the syringe and injected himself the sleeping drug. He lay down on the chair but couldn’t strap himself to it. He didn’t like that, straps keep him safe, but he had no other choice. He thought it would do.

It didn’t work.

He woke up two days later, convulsing and starving, feeling a devastating void inside and a feeling of desperation invaded his whole being. The after effect of the drugs. He never had to deal with them before. They gave him other drugs, and other drugs and he would just go back to sleep. This can't work. Someone needs to change the IV so he can keep sleeping and he needs to be fed, intravenously. But there’s no one here. Not anymore. They’re all dead, or gone. He killed them.

Their bodies started to decay after a while. He had to burn them all. He didn’t like that much. It stank but he had to do it. He didn’t usually dispose of the bodies after he eliminated his targets. Usually, he had to make it look like an accident. It was different. This, burning decaying bodies, smelling the rot and the horrible stench of burnt flesh, he didn’t like it. It felt like missing a target.

It’s been months now, but he can still smell the rotten corpses sometimes. The stench never leaves. Maybe _he_ should.

He stayed here because he didn’t know where else to go. He is supposed to follow Karpov’s orders. He's supposed to follow _someone's_ orders. That's what he's supposed to do. He needs this. He needs orders. They tell him the words and he just obeys. That's how it's supposed to be. Now Karpov is dead and he doesn’t know what to do anymore. It's a bit scary. He could try to see the world, now that he doesn't need to eliminate targets anymore but he doesn't know how to do it. He's lived too long like this, following orders.Here is safe. He knows here. He knows where the food is and there’s still plenty of it. It was supposed to sustain three hundred men forseveral months. Siberia is not easy to access to. Now everyone’s dead and he’s the only one here who needs feeding. There’s no brown sugary thing anymore though. Maybe that’s why he should go. Maybe he should leave and look for some brown sugary thing, and for the blond omega.

He’d like to see the blond omega again. He knows he’s not dead. He pulled him out of the water, after he failed to kill him a third time. It had bothered him at first but now he rationalizes it. He wasn't meant to kill the omega. After all, they are both the same, the omega and him. And there is something about the blond omega. Something he is not sure he likes yet, but something that stirs up his curiosity. Maybe the omega knows things about him. Things he can't really remember, they messed up his memory too much. Things he wasn't allowed to know. 

He can see him in his dreams, often. A different version of him, but it's him. The same voice, the same eyes and the same sweet safe smell. The blond omega smells safe, familiar, _home._ He likes that, he thinks, but he doesn't like the things he sees. They make him feel weird inside, all hot and bothered, like he remembers something he had long forgotten about himself. He thinks it's about him but he isn't sure it is. It's too foreign, too weird and yet so familiar and intimate. It's all very confusing. Maybe those things he feels belongs to the other guy, or maybe it's him, maybe it's _both_ of them. He doesn't know. He's not sure of anything anymore, since all of them died. Nothing is certain like it was before and it's unsettling.

He wishes he didn't have those dreams anymore but he can't erase them. Karpov is dead. Now he sees and feels things everyday and they become clearer and more distinct. Just like memories. Someone else's memories. He has a lot of them. He also has a lot of his own memories coming back. Things he had long forgotten. All his targets. He can remember now. Sometimes the memories are blurry, sometimes they vivid and he isn't sure how he feels about that. He should be feeling something. Something inside him tells him that he should but he doesn't.

Regular people would usually feel guilty about this. killing people is supposed to be wrong, he thinks. He heard that from somewhere, or someone, maybe the blond omega. Or maybe this is just one of the things he knows. But he doesn't. He doesn’t feel guilty. He doesn't feel _anything_. Does that mean he is a monster? He wonders. He doesn't want to kill people anymore. He never  _needed_  to kill people. He did it because he was ordered to and he likes orders. Orders are comforting, safe. Sometimes, he kills because people are in the way. And sometimes, because they want to kill him. Like Karpov, and all the others. It’s just a reflex he has but he doesn't enjoys it, nor does he find it repulsing either. It's just something he did all his life. 

It bothers him that Karpov is dead, a lot. He doesn't need to kill, but he needs someone to tell him what to do. Obeying feels safe and home, like the blond omega’s smell.

He's restless and he needs something to do, because the thoughts are too much and he can't have them erased anymore. He needs something to do.

He goes to the bathroom and washes up. The cold water helps easing the distress he feels right now. He looks at himself in the mirror. He hasn't shaved for months. Nobody asked him to do it, so he didn't do it. Maybe he should. He would. He needs to learn to make his own decision now that he's on his own. He'll do it, but not now, later, because now, he can hear a noise. An unusual noise.

 _Finally,_ something to do. This is the kind of things he knows how to handle. Not like the thoughts, or the idleness.

He runs to the armory and finds his favorite rifle. Then he runs up to the control tower. He knows that noise. It's a jet. Someone is visiting. It could be other Hydra agents. Although, it would be weird. After SHIELD went down, after he failed to kill the blond omega, the organization imploded. There are still Hydra members who went rogue and work on their own now but most of the leaders have been killed or arrested or they are hiding. That's when they tried to eliminate him. He may not remember things, he may need someone to tell him what to do, he may feel more comfortable with simple concepts regarding his own feelings, but he is not stupid. People thinks he is because of all those things but he is not. He can speak thirty languages, he knows about geopolitics and diplomacy. He knows about other people's feelings and emotions and how to manipulate them. He knows how to hide and find secret information. He knows a hundred different ways to kill a man with his bare hands. He knows how to tend to most wounds and so much more. He is _not_ an idiot. No hydra agent set a foot here for months, so it is rather unlikely that they would now. It's probably enemy, but why would they come here, in an abandoned Hydra base, in the middle of nowhere Siberia? That he's not sure to know yet but he will discover it soon enough.

He can see the jet landing. It's not just any jet. It looks like SHIELD's but slightly different. The logo is different. He is ready to fire.

He shoots as soon as the door opens, not to kill, he doesn't know who they are yet, but to warn them. The bullets ricochet. They shouldn't. They're supposed to be resistant enough to pierce through every kind of metal. Well, all but one anyway. 

He didn't have the time make the connections in his heads, the shield has already boomeranged on his rifle and disarmed him. He knows that shield and he recognizes that uniform. He saw the man before he could smell him and nothing in his demeanor indicates hostility and he seems to be alone. He takes a knife in his hands, just in case, checks the gun he has on his back and sets off to surprise the omega from behind. He is not going to kill him. At least, he doesn't think he is. He doesn't think he wants to but he doesn't want to die either. He won't let the blond omega eliminate him.

The blond omega is on his guard, shield in hand, walking toward the entrance of the base, observing all around him, looking for any sign of danger, any sign of weakness. He can feel him now, smell him. He is wary but excited at the same time. He paces behind him silently and stops. The blond omega stops too. He probably felt him. He drops his shield on the ground and lets his arms fall on his sides but he doesn't turn around. He knows he is behind him, he knows he could kill him in a second but he dropped all his weapons and doesn't show any signs of wanting to fight. He listens to the omega's heartbeat. He doesn't seem scared, he's not hostile. On the contrary, he smells safe and trusty. He listens to the heartbeat for some time, as if to domesticate it. The omega seems relaxed while they stay like this, standing silently in the snow. 

He takes his gun and puts it on the back of the omega's head. The omega doesn't raise his arms over his head like people usually do. He trusts him but he's growing uncertain. He can hear the blond's heartbeat race and the smell grows stronger and enraptures him in thoughts and memories. 

The blond finally raises his hands above his head and starts turning slowly around. His breathing is uneven and heavy. Their eyes meet. The blond omega looks sad and melancholic but not aggressive. He still points his gun at him though, arm strong and unmovable, right in the middle of his forehead but the omega doesn't shift. He's not even sure he's scared. They stare at each other for a while, neither of them moving an inch. Him, still holding his gun, ready to shoot. The blond, hands up, analyzing him. 

"Bucky" He finally says with a hoarse, unsteady voice.

 _Bucky._ The name stirs something in him. It reaches the deepest parts of his being and shakes him to the core. Suddenly they all comes back to him, the thoughts, the dreams, the memories. The things he sees and feels, that don't belong to him. They're all boiling in his head in an instant, giving him a headache. He holds onto his gun to keep his composure. Guns are safe. Guns are familiar. He knows guns. All those feelings, those thoughts they're not his. They're foreign. They're someone's else and they make him feel hot all over.

"Steve?"

The omega's eyes open wide and a glimpse of hope runs through them before it disappears. He hesitates a moment before asking, voice hoarse and unsure.

"You remember me?"

Does he remember? He can't possibly remember. He doesn't know the blond omega. He never saw him before those three times he failed to kill him. He doesn't know his name either. These are not _his_ memories. They are someone else's.

"The other guy does." He snaps, holding his gun strongly toward the omega's forehead.

The omega pales. His eyes seem hurt and sorry. He smells confusion and guilt. "The other guy?" He attempts to ask with a soft and smooth voice.

"The dead guy in my head." 

The omega grimaced with disbelief and doubt before turning back to safe and reassuringly soft features. Maybe he understands. "There is no dead guy, Bucky. This is all you." He whispers, voice broken with sadness.

"I'm not Bucky. This is the other guy's name." A glimpse of pain runs through the blue of his eyes again. A pain that he can almost feel.

The omega sighs and looks down, his hands slides down in the air, slowly. He looks desperate but he clears his throat and forces his head back up and his determined stare locks right into his eyes.

"What _is_ your name?" He asks with a taming tone in his deep voice.

He pauses to think, trying to remember. "I don't have a name." He finally answers.

The omega is hurt again. He bites his lower lip and hesitates before saying "Yes, you do." with a determined voice, still staring into his eyes. "Your name is James. Buchanan. Barnes." His words are slow and he pauses between each of them. "This is _your_ name and we are friends. I always called you Bucky, though. I'm the one who gave you that name."

The way he says things sweeps him away in a spiral of memories. Pictures, sounds, smells, feelings everything whirlwinds around in his mind, giving him a headache. He can feel his heartbeat accelerate in his chest. His brain is going to explode. The pounding of his heart thumps in his ears, on his temples until it's the only thing he can think about.

"I don't know you." He gasps out, out of breath.

It can't be true. It can't be true. Everything he says, it can't be true. Or else...

"How did you know my name?" The omega asks.

The memories are vivid and hurt. They come and go aggressively, in flashes, in his head. "What?"

"My name. You said my name. How did you know?"

His hands start trembling. He holds onto his gun firmly, with his two hands now, still aiming right into the omega's forehead. "I can see you in my dreams." 

The omega isn't scared. He stares with a hesitating pout, analyzing him. A sliver of hope illuminated the blue of his eyes. His smell wants to be comforting. It smells good and safe and home and he really wants to put the gun down and hold the omega in his arms, smell his soothing scent and forget about everything else.

"This is because you know me. You _know_ me." He says slowly. The blond speaks with a warm and steady voice, careful not to say something wrong, but full of hope."I'm your friend, Bucky. We were _always_ together when we were kids. In Brooklyn. Remember?"

It makes sense. Everything makes sense. It's so logical and obvious and yet he doesn't feel it. Those things the omega talks about, the memories in his head, the feelings he has, they're not his, they don't _belong_ to him. He knows what the omega says is logical, he's not stupid. The kids in Brooklyn he can see them, fooling around in the dirty streets of Brooklyn. A Brooklyn from another time. He can see their houses. He remembers all those times at the hospital, when he went to see the blond kid. He remembers how his heart hurt each time he saw how pale and sick and skinny he was, almost dying on his hospital bed but always, always full of life and a smile so bright he wold illuminate the plain, depressing room. He had sworn to himself then that he would love him and protect him for the rest his life. He can remember all that but it's _not_ him. It's _someone else_. He remembers someone else feeling like this but him? He doesn't feel anything. It's not him. It was him maybe, a long time ago. It's not him anymore. He doesn't know Brooklyn. He's never been there. He never had a childhood. When he came to life, he was given training and orders and targets to kill, that's all. Everything else is foreign.

"I don't know any Brooklyn. I was never a kid." He says with a cold and monotonous voice. The voice of the soldier. The voice he was trained to master.

The omega looks pained again but doesn't stop. He insists. "You were, Bucky. We were kids together, in the twenties and the thirties, in Brooklyn. We were neighbors. You remember? You must remember. If you remember my name, you must remember this. We swore to each other we would always be together, till the end of line.

"I don't know you. I was born in 1946, I was trained in Russia."

The blond omega startles at this and steps back, face constricted. He can read the growing confusion on his pale skin. His face distorts in sorrow and his lips tremble. His breathing gets heavy. He holds his hands higher up on the sides of his head, still threatened by the gun.

"I mean no harm." He says and his voice comes out hoarser and choked. "I came for you."

"Why?"

The omega lower his gaze a moment and looks at him again. He pinches his lips’ swallowing his obvious stress down. "What do you see in your dreams?"

"I see you." He answers. "I _feel_ you. We do things. Things I don't know about. I can hear your voice. I can the see the place where we lived. I can remember things about you, about you and Bucky. A lot of things."

The omega pinches his lips again with a sad and melancholic look in his eyes. "Do you trust me?" He finally asks when the silence lingers. His voice is hoarse and the white of his breath evaporates in the cold. 

He is still pointing his gun to his head. He doesn't trust anyone. Not even Karpov. "No."

The omega seems hurt again but resigned and resolute. "Are you scared of me?"

"No."

He's not scared. The omega is safe, not hostile and he likes being in his presence, but he doesn't know him and he doesn’t want to die.

"Why did you pull me out of the water?" The omega asks, voice full of hope again.

"I don't know." He whispers.

"I'm your friend. I don't wanna hurt you. I wanna help you. Will you let me?"

His grip on the gun strengthens. He holds it closer to the omega's forehead but the blond doesn't flinch, he doesn't back away. He _trusts_ him. He'd like to trust the omega too. The omega feels safe and comforting. He is still holding his hands up and starts moving on his legs. He bends his knees and slowly kneels down in front of him, never looking away. He keeps staring into his eyes, pleading silently. Not pleading to spare his life like people usually do, but begging him to trust him.

"Please, put the gun down." He whispers.

His hands shake. He wants to put the gun down. He wants to trust the blond omega. He wants to go with him. 

But there's fire and shouts and the noise of a flying engine. They want to kill him.


	10. Farewell Steve Rogers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance to those who read my other works. I'm so sorry you must think I'm super unoriginal, that I always write the same things. I do. But in my defense, I wrote this dialogue way before the one in The Last Hope. Just so you know...

Tony finished the bottle. 

His eyes wanders around the living room and everything seems distorted. His head is spinning. He stands up and heads for the bathroom. He's scum. _He_ _hates_ _himself_...

He relieves himself and doesn't even bother washing his hands afterwards. He just can't stand the reflection in the mirror. He's scum and pathetic and useless. His whole body feels stiff and numb, as much as his mind. He shuffles back to the couch and drops his old carcass exactly where he's been wallowing in self pity and drowning his sorrows. _He's scum_.

He barely notices the phone ringing and picks up without thinking. He shouldn't have. He really doesn't want to hear everything that he's gonna get right now but he doesn't hang up either. He must have a masochistic side, or maybe he just needs to rub some salt on the wound.

"Natasha!" He slurred. "To what do I how the pleasure?"

 _"Are you drunk?"_ Tony ignores the judgmental tone. Fuck everyone. Steve's gone. He can finally drink to his heart's content.

"Always nice words."

She seems really annoyed but he can't find it to bother with the loud buzz in his head. "Do you realize that Steve has left for Siberia?" And really, there's too much worry in that tone. Natasha should chill out. It's cool. Steve's gonna be fine. Steve's always fine.

"I know." He said with a tinge of pride in his voice. " _I_ gave him the intel."

Natasha's not impressed though and really, she seems worried and maybe annoyed. He's not sure anymore. The buzz is too loud. "And you're gonna let him go on his own?"

"Yeah, why not?" _It's fiiiine Nat. Everything's fine._

"Tony. It's a hydra base, potentially full of agents." But really, Tony doesn't see where the problem is.

"JARVIS didn't notice any sigh of life except for Barnes. It's very likely abandoned."

"Maybe it is, Maybe it isn't. It isn't worth the risk, Tony. And even if it was, it's Barnes we're talking about. Remember last time they met? Steve barely survived. What do you think's gonna happen this time? That they will hug and pat each other's shoulders?"

And only one mention of it was needed to sober him up.

"Don't know, don't care. But what I'm sure of is that I have absolutely no intention to be there to witness that. I'm not gonna play the third wheel, Nat. Just leave those two love birds some privacy, will you?

"Are you really that stupid or are you just pretending to be?"

Okay, so she seems a tiny bit angry. Why is that? He sighs. "If you're that worried, what don't _you_ go?"

"I can't. I'm on a mission. And I'm not his alpha."

"I'm not either. Send Barton!"

"Barton's with me, asshole. And really Tony? What the fuck?"

"I don't know then, send him back-ups or something, aren't _you_ the spy? You've got the connections, I’ve got the money. I'm done with it."

"Tony. He's your _mate!_ You can't just abandon him. You're supposed to protect him."

"Where in hell did you ever come up with something as ludicrous as this? Steve isn't my anything and he certainly doesn't need any protecting."

"I'm alpha too remember, you two can't fool me. You're his mate Tony and you know it. From day one, you've been bonding. I saw it happen."

"Really? Well then, you must have noticed the bond mark on his neck that is definitely and blatantly  _not there_?"

He hears an exasperated sigh at the other end of the line. "Bond mark or not Tony," She starts, with a monotonous voice, "you're still his alpha. You know that, and he knows that." 

He needs to laugh at the absurdity of this but he can't. No sound comes out of his mouth, stuck in his constricted chest. "Are you _sure_ he knows that?" He asks with a broken voice, as if the words are hurting his throat as they come out. "Cause the way I see it, our favorite little omega is not the slightest interested in whatever I could offer him. It's Barnes he wants. It's Barnes he loves. It's always been Barnes."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're his _alpha._ And even if there _was_ something between him and Barnes, it can never surpass that. Whatever there is between the two of them, you are and will always be his alpha. How can you not see this?"

"He doesn't want me, Nat." He says, or rather whines, pathetically. Natasha doesn't answer anything, but he can hear her sympathetic breathing at the other end of the line.

"Tony..." she whispers with a compassionate tone, as much as the black window can be compassionate. He can hear the words she doesn't say. _I'm sorry you are such a useless alpha who can't even keep his omega in line. You're a pathetic loser but even though your omega is a heartless bitch, I still need you to make sure he's safe._  "Are you just gonna give up on him? Tony you can't just do this, he needs you. Come on."

"He doesn't need me." He whispers and it hurts so much to say this, but it's the truth. The cold harsh truth. "He never did. Steve Rogers doesn't _need_  anyone and certainly not the likes of me."

"Okay, I'm sorry bonding is not as romantic as you thought it would be and I'm really not calling you to help you fix your relationship but, whether you wanted it or not, you're mates. He needs you. Even if he doesn't show it, you know he does. Trust your instinct for fuck sake. He's vulnerable, Tony. You should know that, better than anyone. And you just sent him to the wolves. We don't know how dangerous Barnes is, but we know how Steve gets when it comes to him."

"It's not my business anymore."

"Tony for fuck sake! You sent him to be _butchered._ Move your alpha ass from your couch and go fight for your mate!"

He opens his mouth to say something but he can already hear the tone on the phone. She hung up on him. 

_Fuck!_

Every single one of her words resonates in his head like the bells in a church tower. A horrible feeling of guilt riles his insides up and make his whole body shiver. How did he ever thought, even for a second, that he could let go of Steve?

Steve, _his omega_. Steve is _his._  Of course, Steve is his omega. He knows it, and he's gonna fight for him. He will fight Barnes. He'll kill him if he has to. Steve will hate him, probably, but that's how it works. When two alphas claim one omega. The strongest gets the prize. And if Tony's not strong enough then so be it. He'll die with no regrets. He'll die while fighting for his omega and it will be the most honorable death you can ever have. And if he doesn't die, then he'll be there for him. Whenever he needs him. He'll be there even if Barnes got the prize. He'll be there even if it's killing him to see Steve in someone else's arms. He'll be there because he can't get away, he can't just abandon him. He'll be there because that's how Tony is. He gives and gives and gives and gets nothing in return.

 

It took him very little time to get into the suit. He can still feel the alcohol buzzing in his head. He's fucking drunk. It's fucking insane and irresponsible to go there in that state but he will, no matter what. For Steve.

He will help his omega save his friend and lover because if anything were to happen to Steve, it would be like losing half of his soul. 

The flight was short or maybe Tony was too drunk but soon he could see the vast plains of snow.

It is brightly white, everywhere. And foggy. He's close and as he gets closer, he feels panic rising inside. How could he do this? How could he send Steve here, by himself, to get slaughtered by a very lethal Winter Soldier? And what if this was a trap? That what was left of Hydra had actually noticed him looking for Barnes and lured Steve here, in the middle of nowhere? What if they have planned everything to get Steve? What would happen to him? What if Barnes would submit him and give him to a full room of hydra men? Barnes was Steve's only weak spot. He would do anything for him. Just like Steve was Tony's weak spot. 

He regrets everything. He regrets being so petty and spiteful. Why would he do that anyway? Why would he send Steve away? Steve belongs with him. Steve is his, bond mark or not. Steve is _his_ omega. He knows that, deep inside he knows. He's always known, even if neither of them acknowledged it. He has felt it from day one. He has _felt_ it. Steve is his even if he doesn't want to, and he's gonna fight for him because he loves him.

He's there. He can see the buildings hidden under layers of snow. He analyses the area, looking for a heat signature. The buildings are empty. He looks around, closer. Now he can see the jet. And he can see two heat signatures, through the blizzard...

His insides rile up and bile comes up in his mouth. 

 _This,_ is too much for him. It turns on all the alarms in his head. His hackles raise and rage builds up inside and takes him over the edge. The scene happening before him goes against every bone of his body.

Steve, his lover, his mate, his omega, his everything. Steve, the fierce and untamed omega. Steve, half of his body and soul, is kneeling down, submitting, while the Winter Soldier holds a gun to his forehead.

He goes berserk. 

All the feelings of compassion and understanding he ever felt towards Barnes went down the toilet with his shit covering it up. All the trust and love he ever felt for Steve evaporated in a instant. Every bit of common sense and humanity he had, is gone. All is left of him are his instincts. All is left of him is the shadow of an alpha, blinded with rage with a pit furnace in his heart and a death wish, in a very deadly suit of armor.  He cannot and will not spare Barnes' life no matter what Steve wants. No-one threatens his omega. No-one submits _his_ omega.  He's gonna fry his brain. 

It all becomes very blurry as his instincts take over. He acts on automatism, as if he were on autopilot. The repulsor blast hits the Soldier but he protects himself with a metal arm. The fuck? In another circumstances, Tony would have been amazed by the technology behind this arm and extremely curious to know how it works, but right now, the only thing he's interested in is killing the man. There are shouts, maybe Steve's, and gun shots. They can't touch him. Even if they could the most important is that Steve is safe. He's no longer in the soldier's grasp. Now, he's free to destroy him. He will fry him alive until there is nothing but a pile of ash left of him. Metal arm or not, Winter Soldier or not, he will eradicate everything of him. 

Barnes shoots him again but Tony rushes toward him with so much power he sends him flying against the wall, it's so easy. The man can't win against the armor. He fires his repulsors at him, even with his arm as protection, they hit him hard. He's on the ground. He will destroy him. 

Or not...

He fires at Barnes more and the repulsors fire back at him.   _Steve..._

Steve is protecting Barnes. Only his shield could ever do something like this. He doesn't even have the time to feel hurt about it, Steve already threw the vibranium shield at him, in an attempt to incapacitate him.

He can hear him say something in the distance. Something vaguely pleading like "It's not what you think. Don't hurt him, please." 

No one stands between an alpha's wrath and the object of their wrath. Not even, their omega.

"Stay away, Steve." He shouts with a strong dominant tone. "It’s between him and I."

"Please, Tony. Listen to me." Steve begs.

He is standing right between Tony and his target, straight and unmovable, eyes pleading, but with a determination in his demeanor that almost breaks his heart. Tony is too enraged to let this unsettle him though. He's gone. He _will_ kill Barnes, no matter what. The alpha hides shyly away, behind the blond omega, nonchalant and unconcerned, which sets every bone in his body on fire.

This is a joke. This _must_ be a joke.

Barnes needs to die.

"Move Omega!" He exclaims with all his alpha power.

He had no choice but to force Steve to move away. He can’t hurt his omega in the process. Steve struggles against his instinct but the tone weakens his stance. He never really could resist him completely, no matter how much he tried. Maybe Natasha was right. Maybe they really bonded. What does it matter now? Now, that Steve is protecting another alpha, his _rival._

"Come on, Barnes. Be a man. Let’s do this. Alpha on Alpha. Like old times. I won’t give up on him."

The alpha keeps quiet, still hiding behind the rock of Steve’s body. The fucking coward! Tony’s insides burn and the bile comes up in his mouth again. He can feel all his limbs trembling with rage and can barely think straight. Steve is turning his back on him, for that, for a fucking joke of an alpha who can’t even stand for himself.

Steve never really could resist him but he’s doing a hell of a job trying. He keeps his stance. Standing in front of the other alpha, protecting him with all his being. Tony has no choice.

He charges the blond omega and sends him away, trying not to hurt him. The alpha takes the opportunity to fire at him. He has finally stopped hiding behind the omega. He is no match for him though he puts a hella fight. Tony is stronger, and maybe, maybe more determined. Who knew that fighting for their mate would give an alpha so much power. The soldier cannot do anything against him when he's in the suit. 

Soon Barnes is on the ground and Tony rides him, hands bare, punching his face with everything he has. It's too personal. He lifts the faceplate, he wants to see the life leaving his body, with his own eyes. His hands move on their own, following his basest and most primal instincts. They come to his throat and he presses with all his strength. The alpha writhes under him, trying to get away while he enjoys the sight of him, red with lack of air and eyes whitening and rolling upwards. He can smell it, the fear. He can smell it and it's unsettling. 

It's not the alpha that he can sense. It's the omega. _Steve..._

The omega scent enraptures him and blinds him. He loosens his grip on Barnes whose beautiful blue eyes glow from under long dirty hair. Those eyes, and the shine in there, confuses him and Steve comes back to attack him from behind. He kicks him away from the alpha. Now, both of them are ready to fight him to death. _Fucking omegas_. He pulls the faceplate down again, puts on his gauntlets. He will kill Barnes and claim his omega but he can't fight two super soldiers without the whole gear. 

Steve is holding back, he just wants to incapacitate him. He still cares, even though if found his soulmate. The alpha, however, is done hiding away. He's aiming for the kill. He can see it in his deadly blue eyes, his dazzling eyes. There's nothing but death in his stare. There's nothing. Nothing in those eyes. Just emptiness and death, and...  

It doesn't matter, he's Iron Man and he will kill him first. 

They fight with every weapon they have and Tony had the upper hand at first. But there's two of them. Two enhanced and angry super soldiers. And despite Steve's holding back, he can't fight them both. He almost did, he would have. If Steve wasn't the one he fought against. No matter how enraged and out of his mind he is, no matter how hard Steve hits him, he cannot hurt his omega, ever. Even if Steve has stopped holding back. 

He almost defeated them though. Barnes had lost the use of his arm and Steve was under his grasps. He aimed his repulsor at the alpha. 

"Are you Tony Stark?" The alpha asked before he could fire a blast.

"Tony Stark bids you farewell, mother fucker! Nice trip to hell!"

He fired, but not quickly enough to miss the last words of Barnes. They were just whispered, but whispered with the slyest deviousness. They weren't even meant to destabilize him, no, they were meant to hurt.  "I killed your parents."

 _I. killed. Your. Parents._ The words pierced through his heart like the most sharpened arrow, destroying everything on their path. The shock paralyzed him, for moment, a tiny moment, a fraction of a second, before the rage came back tenfold. It was just a fraction of a second, but it was enough. Enough time for Steve to sweep him away from the ground and pin him down. Tony gets hypnotized by the beautiful, apologetic face of the love of his life. It says it all. _He knew._

Tony's rage is blinding him but he can't fight against the omega. And frankly, he doesn't even know what hurts him more right now. The fact that his parents were murdered, the fact that his own mate hid it from him, the fact that he's protecting his parents' murderer, the fact that he chose another alpha, or the fact that's going to kill him with his own hands.

 _Betrayal._ When your own mate stabs you in the back, both literally and metaphorically, it's the worst kind of pain. Tony thought he knew everything about betrayal. When Obie tried to kill him, part of him died. The small bits of innocence he still had buried deep in his heart had died with Obie. It was like his whole life had been a lie. But it was nothing, _nothing_ compared to that. Steve is not only killing him. He's crushing his heart, he's ripping his soul away, torturing him endlessly, cursing him to an afterlife of despair and agony. He's killing him and reviving him every time to kill him again. Killing your mate is against nature. Hurting your mate is all kinds of wrong. Having your mate killing you is the worst treason, the most agonizing pain, the most miserable despair. Tony thought he knew everything about pain and betrayal, turns out he knew nothing. 

Steve is above him, pinning him down, eyes so pained he can almost see the tears in them. He's shaking but his hold is strong. Stronger than him, even with the armor, or maybe Tony lost the determination to struggle against his omega. The man looks so hurt. _Please Tony_ he begs. At least Tony thinks he does, he can't hear anything, he can't even see the lips moving but he understands every word. _Please Tony, spare him. Please. He's not what you think_. 

Steve opens the faceplate and Tony gets enraptured by the omega scent. So strong, so powerful, so desperate, so  _wounded._ He can smell how hurt and scared the omega is. It's overwhelming. He drops his head back and gets lost in the smell, losing eye contact with his mate. He wants to smell it one last time before he gives him his goodbye kiss, a Judas kiss before he dies. Because Steve will kill him. Because there's no way in hell that he spares Barnes. He could have spared his mate's lover's life, maybe. Maybe if he hadn't threatened Steve with a gun in front his eyes. Maybe if Steve hadn't submitted to Barnes like he never did to him. Maybe he could have spared him if Steve had begged him like he was begging now, but absolutely not when, in addition to all that, his rival, his worst enemy, is also his parents' murderer. He inhales the bitter omega smell, _smells,_ before he searches for the alpha's. He knows Barnes he's not dead but he can't sense alpha. There's no alpha scent around him. There's only strong and powerful and soothing omega scent. Steve's scent. And... No... No Fucking Way! It can't be fucking true!!! This is the most pathetically funny joke of his fucking life! Like his whole life had been a joke and a lie, his death will be no different. He dies on a vile and devious lie.

He bursts out laughing, hysterically. What else could he do now anyway?

 _Barnes is no alpha_. James Barnes was _never_  alpha. Steve Rogers and James Barnes were never soulmates, could never be mates. Steve wasn't submitting to him. Barnes was never his rival, not in the true sense of the word. He can smell them, now, unmistakably, the two distinct, sweet and deliciously soothing, omega scents. Barnes is omega. Another omega. Steve's only lover before him was omega. Steve's best friend and lover and everything was omega. Omega like Steve. Steve who never ever wanted an alpha. Steve who didn't want to bond. His lover was omega. It all makes sense now. Steve's reaction, Natasha's words. Everything makes fucking sense. How could he not know this? How could he be so stupid and naive? And blinded by his selfishly misplaced jealousy. It's all on him.

It's all on him but it won't change anything. Because Barnes may not be Steve's alpha, he may have been wrong about everything, but Barnes still is his parents' murderer. And Steve knew. And Steve was ready to kill him to protect him. And honestly he doesn't even know if this is better or if it's worse. Maybe it _is_ worse, that Steve would choose his omega friend over his alpha. Maybe it says it all. It says it all about them, about their relationship. 

Steve is still pinning him down, eyes pleading for the unconscious omega. He pinches his plush lips. His beautiful face is distorted with pain, the pain of dilemma. Whatever choice Steve makes, it will be a very hard, almost impossible one. One you can never recover from. Tony knows how devoted he is to Barnes, but he also knows what it means to turn away from your mate. These things alphas and omegas know. And Steve, even though he struggled with everything he had against it, is Tony's mate. Nothing will change that. And he cares for him, deeply, more than Tony ever thought, more than he ever knew and maybe more than he ever dreamed of. But despite everything, it's not enough. Tony can see it in his eyes. And the way he's pleading says it all.

Maybe Tony could have eased his pain, maybe he could have thought about all of this rationally, but he's too dunk and too upset, and blinded with pain, and rage and jealousy, and disappointment. Their relationship was doomed from the beginning. It could have never been anything other than a tragedy.  If Steve can't choose between him and Barnes, Tony is gonna choose for him. He lifts his arm and aims his gauntlet toward the unconscious form of the other omega. 

"Please Tony, no."

"He killed my parents." _That's not even the worst of it_. But the worst of it, is so painful he cannot say it. No even in his head.

He can see the shield raised above him. The shield that meant everything to him. The hands holding it meant everything to him. The hands that hold it, belonged to him, once. The person behind those hands was part him, is _still_ part of him. This person is half of his mind, half of his soul, half of his heart, half of his whole being. And yet, those murderous hands are going to kill him.

 _Steve..._ The agonizing name burns his throat. He can feel a tear at the corner of his eye, dripping down his cheek. Dying for your omega is the most honorable death. Dying in the hands of your omega is the most miserable and excruciating death.

Tony always knew Steve would be the end of him. He never meant it literally though.

_Farewell, Steve Rogers. I loved you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end... Next chapter: Steve and Bucky leave hands in hands under the sunset.
> 
>    
>  
> 
> I’M JOKING OF COURSE!!!
> 
>  
> 
> As you can see, CW left a deep wound in my heart that is still fresh and open. :(


	11. Going to New York

He followed the blond omega.

He doesn't know what to think of it yet. He knows he was important to Bucky, very important. He isn't sure if he's important to him. Maybe he will be, one day. He likes him, he thinks, not like the brown sugary thing but close. The blond omega trusts him and wants to help him, and maybe that's exactly what he needs right now. Help. So there he is, in the Avengers Quinjet, flying over to New York, and there is a blond omega resting his head on his shoulder, enveloping him in a soft appeasing warmth.

Things are settling in his head. The memories are no longer overwhelming. They're pleasant, at least some of them are, mainly the ones featuring the blond omega. They were happy together, him and Bucky. Even if the world around them was harsh. He doesn't understand it completely, the concept of happiness, but it seems nice. He wishes he would experience that too, one day.

For now he feels more or less content. The blond omega seems nice and he likes the way he smells. Or maybe the other guy liked the way he smelled and his memories are warm and sweet. He can do with that. He also likes the scent of the alpha, even though he tried to kill him. It's a strange feeling to have but now that the alpha is unconscious on the stretcher next to them. His strong and powerful scent is appeasing and comforting. Just like Karpov's orders were comforting. The fact that there will be an alpha where they live is a very comforting idea. It seems natural, grounding and safe, like how things are supposed to be. 

He doesn't know what to think of the alpha however. The idea of an alpha is comforting, but this particular one almost killed him. He had his reasons he supposes, but he doesn't like dying. He was not ready to die, even if he found it really hard to fight the alpha's fury. He doesn't remember feeling this powerless before. He felt almost crushed. It was rather scary, but he doesn't know fear. He knows other people's fear, but his own fear is a concept he doesn't really understand. If it was up to him, he would have left the alpha to die in the snow. That's what you do with your enemies, but this one may not really be an enemy. At least, not one of the blond omega's enemies, because he would not leave him there. 

He isn't really sure why the alpha wanted to kill him, but it seemed kinda personal. Maybe it had something to do with his relationship with the blond omega. He doesn't really know what they are to each other but they seem close. Very close. He has no idea, however, how he fits into all this. He does understand though why the alpha would want to kill him now. Now, that he mentioned killing his parents. Revenge is also a concept he doesn't really get but he knows people tend to do that. And the alpha isn't any different.

He's a little bit nervous about the alpha's reaction when he is conscious again but he decided to trust the omega. He said he wouldn't hurt him, that he's not that kind of alpha, that in time, he would forgive him. He seems to know a lot about the alpha, he also seems to assume a lot about the alpha and that is concerning, but he's not worried, he decided to trust the blond omega and he will and if the alpha tries to kill him again, he'll kill him first. If he doesn't try to kill him, he will be content. He doesn't really care about being forgiven. He never understood why forgiveness was so important for people. What more would he do when the alpha forgives him? What would he feel? Would he be happy? He really doubts it.

He'll be fine if he doesn't try to hurt him again. Alphas aren't supposed to hurt omegas, they are supposed to protect them. That's how things are supposed to be. Omegas are supposed to submit and obey and soothe their anger. These things are things he just knows. Maybe he'd like that. Having an alpha to obey and to submit to. That's what he's supposed to do he reckons.

There were no alpha at the base. He doesn't remember ever meeting an alpha before. Maybe he killed alphas before, but if he did, he doesn't remember. He forgot about most of his targets. He remembers the Alpha's parents though, they were both betas. He remembers the fear in the mother's eyes when he strangled her. He remembers the useless act of bravery and the resigned acceptance of the father. The old man knew why he had to die. Thinking of it now, it was courageous and honorable of him. He could have respected that man, if he ever had that kind of feelings in him. Bucky would have probably. Bucky knew him, he thinks, when he was young, because the man's face looks strangely familiar now and brings out other memories. Good and bad memories.

_Bucky..._

It feels strange to say this name, even if he only says it in his head. It wasn't even his real name. His real name was James, but the omega called him Bucky. That's what he said. Maybe that's why it feels strange to say it, because the way he remembers hearing it in his head has a particular flavor to it. 

He isn't sure how he feels about Bucky either. From what he remembers, he was very different from him. It is unsettling the idea that he and Bucky were ever the same person. He's not sure to believe this, even if the blond omega seems very much convinced of it. Maybe the blond omega is trying to convince himself of it because he can't accept the truth, that his friend is dead. Maybe the blond omega is projecting the idea of his friend on him. People tend to do that too. It doesn't bother him though, because the omega smells nice, safe and home and he doesn't mind being his friend for now. 

And apparently, the omega needs a friend right now.

When he woke up the omega was crying on the alpha's unmoving armor, right there, in the middle of the snow. The unexpected scene surprised him. It was very strange, to cry over someone who wanted to kill you, especially when you're the very reason for them being dead. He had never witnessed something like that before. He didn't cry for Karpov --for anyone, or anything, ever, for that matter-- even if he didn't like him being dead. The idea of crying was very foreign to him. Another concept he didn't really understand. He considered taking the jet and leaving them there but the idea of leaving the blond omega gave him chills. And taking the blond omega with him meant taking the alpha along, because he was clinging to him like a limpet to a rock. He was unconsolable as if he was mourning his bonded mate. Except, they weren't bonded and the alpha wasn't dead. He could still smell him, and now that he was unconscious his scent didn't reek of death and aggressiveness anymore. It smelled nice, and alluring. The alpha is powerful, very powerful and entrancing. And unbonded.

It makes him feel weird though, to see the omega like that. It feels familiar. He has similar memories, memories of an omega crying desperately over the death of their alpha. His mother... His mother was crying the same way the omega does. _No, not_ _his mother_. Sarah was not his mother, he never had a mother. She was _Steve's_ mother. Steve... Steve is the blond omega's name. That's why he remembers. Steve is crying exactly like his mother had been. Except, he isn't crying over his alpha. He doesn't have an alpha. He's not bonded.

The blond omega would have stayed like this until he froze to death if he hadn't come to pick him up. He wouldn't let go of the armor, wouldn't move. He was drenched and shivering when they finally got into the jet. He had to fly the jet because the omega wouldn't. He barely told him where they were heading. While he was taking off, the blond took off every part of the armor delicately and freed the alpha from it. It was fascinating. He knew exactly what to do to be able to take it off. He, on the other hand, had even never thought for a second it would be possible to remove it from the outside. Then the blond held the alpha in his arms, crying silently, wiping his face with a clean cloth. He looked like one of those Christian paintings picturing the Virgin Mary holding the body of her son in her arms. Steve would have liked the metaphor he thinks, he loved arts, and was a fervent catholic. 

They are on autopilot, and there are two hours left before they arrive in New York. The blond omega finally let go of the alpha's body. He's resting his head on his shoulder, seeking comfort in the warmth of his embrace. It's the first time he is comforting someone, but the omega seems to do it instinctively, as if they had done this thousand times before. He curls his only arm around him and pulls him closer. It's a nice feeling. He likes having the omega close to him. He looks at his face, he's still crying. Silent tears are running down his cheeks, discretely, like omega tears should. His bonding gland is pulsating, red and swollen, like someone bonded, or bonding. He wears no mark though. It's still perfectly intact, just like his own. He tries to bring his other hand to it, without thinking, before realizing that he doesn't have his other hand. The alpha destroyed his metal arm. He can still feel it though, the gland. His is not pulsating. It never did. He spent most of life no knowing what he was. It's only after he killed them all that he knew. After he started to see things, after he remembered, after remembering what he and the blond omega used to do together. 

He gives the blond a little push of his head.

" 's he your mate?" He asks while giving a look at the unconscious alpha.

The omega nods silently.

"Why aren't you bonded? What have you done that he didn't want to mark you?" The omega sighs and starts breathing heavily. "Are you a bad omega?"

The blond startles on his shoulder. "No!" He gasps offendedly. "No, I... _I_ didn't want to bond."

This was definitely something he didn't understand.

"Why?"

 "You should know, Bucky. Don't you remember?" Remember what? "We swore to each other, that we would never bond."

Why would he ever do something like that? What was an unbonded omega supposed to do? This idea seemed to be the most foreign of all.

No, it isn't... It isn't quite true.

Bucky _hated_ alphas.

He lied when he said he had never witnessed anyone crying over someone who wanted to kill them. He has. He _has seen_ something like that before. No, not him. Bucky, the other guy, had. He had seen his pop crying over his mate so many times, when his mate had hurt him, so many times as well. Even after his mate had tried to strangle him, and throw him out the window he had cried for him.

Bucky hated alphas. He, on the other hand, doesn't.


	12. Will you ever forgive me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone.
> 
> Sorry I took so long. I'm just busy lately and I will be for the next months so I will upload this (and all my works...) sporadically. I'm trying not to give up... I really want to finish them.

He is woken up by the rough fingers of his alpha, fiddling with his hair.

Soon, the alpha scent surrounds him, protective and grounding. The scent makes his heart skip and his whole body relaxes. He smiles and moans tiredly, pushing his head into the calloused hand, seeking more of the alpha's touch. The hand caresses him softly, delicately, so delicately he almost purrs.

He opens his eyes and looks up. The dark-haired alpha looks at him with a blissful smile. "My beautiful, beautiful omega." He says with a croaky voice. He just woke up from the coma, after a ministroke. And Steve has spent the whole week sitting by his bed, never leaving his side. He had just fallen asleep, exhausted of this turmoil of emotions he'd been feeling. He was resting his head on the hospital bed and slept like a baby next to the comforting warmth of his alpha when Tony woke up.

A warm feeling spreads throughout his body. A mix of relief and excitement that makes him a little euphoric. He wants to jump into the bed and hold his alpha tightly, kiss him for hours and entangle his legs together with his. He wants to be connected, tied, knotted, anything to settle this uneasiness he feels in his heart ever since their argument. 

Tony tried to break up with him because he was jealous of Bucky, thinking Bucky was his alpha. How could he miss this? How did he not see? How could he have let happen? It's all his fault. Everything went to shit. Everything went sour and it's all his fault. If only he'd told Tony how he felt. Just once. Once would have been enough, because Tony had always been able to read through him. 

He has so many regrets.  

He was so happy to see the Iron Man in Siberia. It meant that Tony hadn't abandoned him. It meant that he cared. It meant that he loved him. But it's not enough, because Steve has betrayed him. He was right, he knows that, he knows he did the right thing. He saved his friend from an inevitable death and his mate from being once again plagued by an immeasurable guilt. He knows he was right but it was still a very difficult choice to make, an impossible one. Turning against your mate is against nature. It's all kinds of wrong and Steve only realized it when he did it.

The moment he decided to incapacitate Tony so he wouldn't kill Bucky he felt his heart tear in his chest, in a way he would never recover from. Steve had thought he was free. Steve had not wanted to bond with Tony because he thought he would lose himself completely. _Too late._ Steve had lost himself in the dark eyes and the gentle embrace of Tony a long time ago.  

He had never meant to hurt him though, only to knock him out. He'd never thought he would have complications. He had never seen Tony age. For him Tony had always been the same carefree and cynical man, a man of paradox, full of hope, generous and caring and so so smart and brilliant. _Invincible._  But Tony was vulnerable, the most vulnerable of them. And now, he was the one plagued with an immeasurable guilt. 

"Does that mean I made it to heaven?" Tony says, with a kind smile. He looks exhausted. He is still wearing the marks of their fight. On his face and body. He has bluish bags under his eyes and his face is puffed. He looks like shit, but he's alive, alive and well and that's all that matters to Steve.

Steve smiles in response, up to his ears. He almost laugh with all the tension, the stress, the guilt, the sorrow he's been feeling since coming back to New York finally cooling down.

"Or is it hell?" He asks with a bitter tone in his croaky voice. "Are you here to torment me, to betray me and kill me over and over again? The devil has a strange sense of humor."

Steve's smile drops in an instant. All the terrible feelings he's been cursed with come back to slap him in the face. Tony is still smiling though. 

"Heaven or hell, I don't care if I get to spend my afterlife with you." He finally says with a strangely resigned and sad voice. A voice that makes Steve's heart clench in his chest. He feels a blush coming to his face, but not the good kind of blush. A blush of shame, guilt and sorrow. He realizes that Tony is not yet completely conscious. He's in a semi-awake distorted reality and maybe that's why he's smiling at him.

"You never believed in God." He says. He wanted to sound amused but it came out sour.

"I know, but only a fool can't change his mind. If you're here then I must be dead."

"You're not dead Tony." Steve mutters. 

And Steve sees Tony suddenly coming out of his daze, realizing where he is. The look in his eyes displays a whole range of emotions that breaks Steve's heart. He panics and his panic turns into anger, and then his eyes shine with a deep, aching melancholy. 

"Why are you here then? To finish the job?"

Tony's hateful words and glaring eyes send spikes in his heart. "I never wanted to kill you." He stammers with a broken voice, choking on his words. "I didn't know you'd have a stroke. I'm so sorry"

"You could have fooled me." He mutters tiredly, as talking seems to take a huge effort out of him.

"You would have killed an innocent man, Tony." Steve explains, looking down and shameful. "I couldn't let you do that."

Tony giggles bitterly. "Really, Steve? Are you seriously trying to say that you did it for me?"

And this is another proof of how deeply connected they are, because Tony, even in the state he is in, always understands what Steve is trying to say. Just like Steve doesn't need words to know how Tony is feeling right now. He would have known so much more if he ever gone to the trouble of listening. Truly listening, with his heart.

"No." Steve answers and drops his head down under the heavy weight of guilt.

There is a short moment during which none of them say anything. Tony is much too tired for that, and Steve is crushed by his own guilt, shame and regrets.

"Why are you still here?" Tony finally whispers exhaustedly. "Just leave me alone."

"No!" Steve protest.

"Go, please..."

"No!" He says loudly, almost shouting. "No! I can't leave you. I can't." And he can hear how desperate his own voice sounds. "I can't..."

Betraying their alpha is the worst thing that an omega can ever do. He realized how much it hurts, how much he has lost of himself. He killed the best part of himself when he hit the shield into the arc reactor. Because bonded or not, their souls are tied together, with a deeper connection than he would have ever thought. Steve had never wanted to bond, but he had, slowly and quietly. Steve had always wanted to be free but he could never be. When you're omega, you were born a slave. No matter what you do you cannot escape your destiny. Steve couldn't escape his own. He has bonded Tony and now he is Tony's, forever. Steve didn't escape his fate, but he's not sure he wants to anyway. What sort of a life would it be without Tony? 

It would be no life at all. Tony gives meaning to his life.

He finally understands his mother. How strong she must have been to survive that. Would he be as strong? He doubts it. Only one week without Tony and he's already a mess.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tony says in defeat. Steve won't go and he knows it but he's too tired to struggle against it, or maybe he doesn't really want to hurt Steve, because Steve is his omega and he loves him. That's what he hopes anyway.

"I thought you knew." He chokes out.

"How the fuck would I know?" Tony asks. 

"Only omegas can be enhanced."

"What do you mean? How was I supposed to know that?"

"It's in my file. You've read it, didn't you?" _Probably a dozen times._

"I think I'd know if it was... Jarvis? Is it in Steve's file?" He asks his phone, and the phone answers. "It is, Sir."

"Why don't I know about it? Haven't you read it to me?"

"Twice, Sir."

Tony suddenly have a dumb look on his face, half-surprised, half-regretful. So Steve takes the opportunity to defend his case. "Bucky were never my alpha Tony. He couldn't be. He was my friend, my best friend--"

"That you fucked." Tony interrupted. "I think it's ever worse. What does that make you, huh? You're one of those? A guy who would go for other guys with the same status? A pervert?"

Steve looks down. "No, I'm not" He doesn't say anything else. He could, Tony isn't fair, he too has had sex with people with the same status, male and female. He's just jealous and bitter and takes it out on Steve and Steve will take it without saying anything because he's his omega and he loves him and he needs him to forgive him. "You know I'm not."

"Aren't you though?" Tony asks and his tone is completely free from his previous anger, only the pain remains, the pain and the bitterness. He would have preferred Tony angry, it would mean he still cared but this, it just breaks Steve's heart. Tony has given up. "It wasn't just sex and you know it." He continues.  "Alpha or Omega, it doesn't change a thing. You loved him. You _still_ love him." Steve feels his heart clench, there is some truth in those words. He _did_  love him, but now he loves Tony. Why can't Tony see that? "Don't think I'm an idiot, Steve, I know you. You can't fool me. You love him and you chose him and it's okay. I get it." And those words are the most hurtful of all. Steve would have preferred anything. Anything but that. Because this, the way Tony was giving up on him, even though he loved Steve so much that he was ready to forgive him and let him go, this was the worst thing he could do him. It killed him inside. It ripped his soul of his heart, the same way it had when he hit the shield in his arc reactor. "You never wanted to bond. I know why now." Tony continues. "It's okay, Steve. It's okay. I'm not really angry with you. Just, get out of my face now. The two of you... Get the fuck out of my life. That's all I'm asking."

"I didn't choose him." Steve says. "I chose the both you. The _both of you_ , Tony." He pauses and waits for Tony's answer but he keeps staring with lost and exhausted eyes. "If I hadn't stopped you, you would have killed him. He didn't deserve to die." He explains. "Not because he's my friend, because he's a victim."

"He would have killed me too."

"No he wouldn't. He's not strong enough against you and your suit, and you know it. Even I, am not strong enough." He looks down, trying to keep his composure, and raises his head again to look at Tony in his eyes. "You don't really want him dead, do you?" He asks plaintively, voice full of hope. He's almost sure Tony doesn't want him dead. It's the anger speaking. The man he loves wouldn't want Bucky, or anyone, dead.

"He killed my parents." Tony spits through gritted teeth.

"It wasn't him. It wasn't his fault. He was--"

"Even now, you're defending him. He _killed_ my parents. _He_ did it, no-one else. And you knew it, and you're defending him. Why? Why don't you just leave and go with him? Where is he anyway? Why aren't you with him? Why are you here?"

"I'm here for you, Tony. I've been here the whole time. I can't live without you. I'm so so sorry. I knew they were murdered but I didn't know it was him, I should have told you. I'm sorry, I thought I was protecting you."

"Do I look like I need protecting to you?" 

"No, I-- I'm so sorry. Please, please forgive me."

"Go fuck yourself! Or your murderer omega bestie, I don't care. Just get the fuck outta here."

There is no point. Tony won't listen to him now, he's too angry. Steve ignores how rotten and empty he feels inside and stands up in defeat. "Okay." He says, trying to hold back his tears. "I'll go." He heads to the door and opens it but changes his mind at the last minute. He turns on his feet and faces Tony one last time. 

"Just... before I go... Look at me, Tony. Look at me and tell me that you want him dead now."

Tony looks at him, with burning eyes full of hatred, sending daggers, but he doesn't say it. Steve shivers all over, he would never have thought he would see that look again on Tony's face and it hurts so much, even if, for a tiny moment, a nanosecond, he saw a glimpse of regret in there. He knows what it meant, Tony doesn't really want Bucky to die. Tony isn't that kind of man. Steve knows that, because Tony is his alpha and he is his omega and he knows him better than he knows himself sometimes. Tony won't admit it, of course, he is too hurt, too bitter for that but it was there and it meant hope, despite the hateful words coming from his mouth, it meant hope.

"GET OUT!" Tony growls.

"I'll come back Tony, every day. Until you forgive me."

 

* * *

 

His heart is still heavy when he penetrates the room they've attributed to Bucky at the New Avengers Quarters. He wishes he could get back to the Tower, go to the Penthouse and sleep in Tony's bed, _their_  bed, enveloped in the scent of his alpha.  He wishes their last talk had gone better.

He wishes so many things. 

Bucky's room is small but nice and modern. It has everything he needs and it's probably better than he ever had during those seventy years he spent as the Winter soldier. 

Bucky rises on his feet when Steve gets in. He doesn't look as scary when he's wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. He looks more pitiful than dangerous and the sight makes Steve's heart clench a little. Ever since they met again, Bucky has been distant, lost. Steve is pretty sure his old friend is there. He did recognize him, and he remembers about him, but somehow, it's not like him, as if Bucky was a different person, or not himself entirely.

Steve walks to him and wraps his arms around him into a hug. It's a gesture completely natural to him. It's exactly how they used to greet each other, but it's not natural anymore. Bucky startles, but finally lets himself melt into Steve's strong embrace. Steve buries his head the neck of the dark-haired omega. He likes the smell. It's familiar, safe and grounding. It's exactly what he needs now to forget about the erratic beating of his heart and the weight that is growing in his chest. A pool of fear, melancholy and loneliness. Bucky seems to feel that need because the omega lets Steve drown his sorrow on his comforting shoulder for as long as he needs and doesn't say anything.  

After a substantial amount of time, Steve finally lets go of the brunette and sits on the bed. Bucky joins him and they remain silent next to each other for a moment, until it's awkward enough that Steve feels the need to break it.

"Do you like your room?" He asks.

"Yeah." The soldier answers without looking at him.

"It's simple, but comfortable." Steve continues and Bucky nods, but still avoids his gaze. "Are they nice with you?"

"Yeah. For now."

Steve's heart clenches again. Bucky doesn't trust them and he's lost hope and it's heartbreaking. He can't even try to imagine what he's been through during those seventy years. Steve thought he had suffered to have been ripped off seventy years of his life, but he has been lucky. Very lucky. 

"If they do anything, _anything_ to you, you tell me. I won't let them hurt you."

Bucky smiles, it's faint and sad but it's there and it's something. "Thanks. Bud."

Steve smiles too, at the nickname. It feels awfully familiar. It feels home, like old times, when Tony wasn't in his life, when no alpha came between them, when they weren't ancient fossiles living out of their time. He reaches toward the uneasy man to take his hand before he realizes he doesn't have a left arm anymore, so he reaches further, grabs his old friend's right hand and entangles their fingers together. "Me and you, Buck. Till the end of the line."

Bucky finally throws a glance at him and pulls them both back on the bed. With his right hands he tugs Steve's until they both lie down on the small bed and Steve rests his head on Bucky's left shoulder. Bucky holds him close against him, like old times, in a silent but comforting and understanding embrace. "Till the end of the line." He repeats with a distant voice, while playing with their entangled hands.

They remain like this for a while and Steve loses tracks of time after the room gets dark. Even if the lack of an arm around him is something he needs to get used to, their silence is no longer awkward, because it's Bucky, his best friend, his companion, his brother, and it was never awkward between them. 

This time it's the brunette who breaks it. "Has the alpha woken up?" He asks while running the thumb of his right hand along Steve's neck, up to his cheek. 

Steve's heart sank in his chest. Tony _has_ woken up, and Steve screwed up. He has lost him and he is devastated but Bucky can probably sense it, because he remains warm and solid under him and keep caressing his cheek in a comforting friendly gesture. "Yes." He mutters, trying to slow down the beating of his heart.

"Why are you here then?" Bucky asks. The exact same words that his alpha had bitterly spat at him earlier, except there's no bitterness or rage this time. Bucky's tone is completely neutral.

"He doesn't want to see me." Steve answers in a whisper, trying to hold back sobs and tears. 

"You tried to kill him." Bucky says as his words are evidence and the neutrality and plainness of his tone makes the words even more brutal. 

"I tried to stop him from killing you." Steve clarifies a bit aggressively, feeling hurt that his old friend doesn't seem to care how much he has sacrificed for him.

"It's the same thing. You still tried to kill him."

"And _he_ tried to kill _you."_ Steve protests.

"But he's not my alpha." 

And there it is again, the guilt, invading him, overwhelming him, choking him. Steve has so many things he feels guilty about. He has failed the two people he loves the most in this world.

Steve tightens his embrace around the other omega and holds him close against him. The hand he had laid across Bucky's chest crawls underneath the slumbering mass of his body and his leg rolls around him, finding its way between the omega's knees.  

"I'm so sorry, Bucky." Steve mumbles against Bucky's cheek, hiding his shivering face in his long dark hair. "I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to bond, ever. I didn't want to. I know we promised each other we would never let an alpha come between us--"

"It's okay, Steve" Bucky interrupted, eyes still fixing the white ceiling above them. " It was another time. Another life. You don't have to apologize for that." He says with a croaky voice. A voice that sounded tired in Steve's ear. " _I_ wouldn't." He continues. "I would have done the same if I were you. You're lucky to have someone in this world."

"You hate alphas."

"I don't."

Steve is confused for a moment. He doesn't recognize his friend. It's him. He looks the same. He smells the same. He sounds the same. But it's not the same. Bucky would have never said something like that, but then, Bucky died more than seventy years ago. He can't expect to have his friend back the same way he was after years of torture and brain-washing, _h_ _e,_  himself, is different, a lot different, and he's only faced death and a gap of seventy years in his resume. It's hardly the same. 

"I won't let Tony come between us." He swears, more to himself, than to Bucky.

It is a lie. 

Not that he didn't mean those words, he did. He never wanted an alpha to jeopardize his relationship with the other omega, but Tony is his _mate_  and when he gets him back, _if_ he gets him back, the next time he has to choose between the two of them, he isn't sure he will make the same mistake. He can only hope he will never have to choose again.

Steve can smell Bucky relaxing under his grasp and it soothes him too. The omega brings his hand to his cheek again and turn his head to face him. Their nose almost touch and Steve can feel the familiar breath on his mouth. It feels so much like home suddenly, like he hasn't felt in years. Him and Bucky, they were the only ones for each other for so many years and his touch, his warmth, his scent, it all brings back memories. So many memories, good and bad, but mostly good. It's familiar and safe and comforting. It's home and it's so easy to fall back into it.

Steve melts into the touch and their noses brush. Bucky chuckles and it's the same, warm and cocky laugh as before, when Bucky was Bucky and when there was no war, no nazis, no hydra, no targets, no serum and super strength, _when they were in love_. Steve opens his eyes and they lock into the brunette's playful baby blues. A shiver runs down his spine and Steve feels his body warm under the omega's touch. Their lips touch. Softly at first, only a little brush, then deeper and harder. 

Sex with an omega is not like sex with an alpha. It's warm and cosy, and soft. It's like hot chocolate under the comforter on a rainy Sunday afternoon. It's like his mom's homemade cake on his birthday, like cuddling in front of the fireplace at Christmas. It's sweet and comforting.

Sex with Bucky used to be more. It used to mean something. It was tender and passionate, but it was not like sex with Tony. It's nothing like Tony. Now it feels more like a remnant of the old days but it's still sweet and comforting. 

Steve is the one who seeks entrance in Bucky's mouth. He nips lightly at his bottom lip and runs his tongue along the edges of his mouth until Bucky gasps and opens up for him. He needs this. He needs the soothing contact, he needs to appease his feelings, to easy his discomfort. He needs something to go right in his life when everything else goes to shit.

And maybe it's not the right way to make things go right but it's the only way he knows to get back to his friend, to find that connection they used to have again, to make Bucky feel welcomed and loved and trusted. And if it doesn't work, well at least it feels good, and familiar. It feels home. And it's what they've always done. It's the way they interact with each other. And Steve needs something real, something tangible to keep him sane and grounded when Tony is giving up on him.

Bucky touches him as if he is touching someone for the first time and it's weird but nice. It's not that strange, Steve's body has changed and they didn't have much sex after his transformation. There was a war going on and no time for cuddling. The touch of his hand is familiar though. Bucky runs his fingers up and down his spine and his tongue is sweet and hot in his mouth. Steve feels the warm pleasure pooling in his belly and slowly forgets about everything else. Bucky is here, with him. Warm and solid and soft and _here._

Steve's hands roam around the other omega's body. He needs to touch, to feel, to palpate, to make sure that it's real. He slides his hands underneath the clothes and presses them against the hard muscles of his chest. Bucky's body is getting hot and shaky. He starts moaning softly into Steve's mouth when he pinches his nipples. The other omega grabs the back of his neck and deepen their kiss, holding him strongly with his one hand. 

They're both hard but don't do anything about it for a while, enjoying the sensation and the warmth between them. They grind slowly against each other and caresses each other's backs, softly, and they kiss. 

It's Bucky who takes the next step. His single hand runs down his spine and strongly grabs a handful of Steve's butt. He squeezes his asscheek and slips his fingers inside his pants. It's too tight for him to move them so he takes his hand out and unbuckles Steve's jeans. Steve's tightens his hold onto his friend's body and gasps in the crook of neck while the omega skillfully pushes a finger inside.

He's not wet, not exactly, but it's moist enough for it not to hurt and Steve melts into the touch. He pushes back onto Bucky's finger with a swing of hips and forward, rutting against his hard-on, and he whimpers softly. 

They remain like this for a long time, both enjoying the pleasure. Steve slides his hands down Bucky's sides and grabs his waist with strength. More strength than he ever had before. He rubs Bucky's crotch against his own, seeking the fiction while the other man is thrusting his finger deeper inside of him. He's omega, but he's skilled and he knows Steve's body. Every inch of it. It is a new body but his soft spots haven't changed and Bucky knows them all.

Steve moans and sucks on Bucky's neck. He is close and Bucky feels it. He presses one last time against his prostate and Steve comes in his pants with the friction of his trapped cock against Bucky's hard length. Bucky kisses him sensually through orgasm and pulls his finger out.  He brings his sullied finger into Steve's mouth and make him suck on it, the way he has done so many times before and Steve's takes it as his cue to go down on his friend and reciprocate. 

He sucks on Bucky's finger and slips his hand in Bucky's sweatpants, searching for the hot length. He grabs his cock with a strong hand and starts moving up and down the shaft, slowly. Bucky starts panting and moaning. The familiar sound does something funny to his belly. He lets go of the hard cock and slides his fingers down the shaft, between the omega's thighs. Bucky is wet too, not wet like he would be when in heat or with an alpha but wet enough for Steve to push a finger inside without hurting him. He thrusts once or twice and brings his lubricated finger to the head of Bucky's cock and resumes his stroking. The omega arches his back and starts panting furiously. Steve unnerves the other man until he comes undone. When Bucky is a mess in his grip, he pulls his sweatpants further down and slides down slowly between his legs. He shoves the throbbing cock in his mouth while his fingers wander around Bucky's entrance. He pushes inside and thrusts vigorously while sucking him off and Bucky finally reaches orgasm. His burning insides squeeze around Steve's fingers and he coats his mouth with long hot spurts of white cream.

He tastes the same, exactly the same, but it feels different and Steve doesn't know why.

He swallows everything down and chuckles nervously as his body relaxes. He feels good for a moment and crawls back into Bucky's embrace. Bucky is not smiling but he's relaxed too and unconsciously tries to wrap his absent arm around Steve. The gesture is nice and thoughtful and Steve buries his face in his neck and gets drunk in the soothing omega scent. 

He doesn't know what to do. He could still keep pretending he is here for his friend, to help him adjusting to his new life but the truth is that it's Bucky who's been there for him and comforts him. And Steve selfishly takes whatever he can take.

The good feeling doesn't last and soon pictures of Tony unconscious and battered on his hospital bed comes back to his mind and guilt threatens to strangle him again. He shivers against his friend.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" Steve whispers. He doesn't want to be alone and he has nowhere else to go. He can't go back to Tower now. He doesn't feel like he has the right to, even if Tony is still at the hospital. 

Bucky nods and hums softly and Steve presses himself against the warmth of the other omega. It's a double bed but it's too small for two super-soldiers to sleep comfortably in it. It doesn't matter because they will sleep in each other's arms like they always did when they slept together, protecting each other from the alphas around.

"Did you apologize to him?" The omega says looking up toward the white ceiling. Steve startles and realizes that he had just spoken out loud, a weak and trembling "He doesn't wanna see me anymore." He didn't really want to speak to Bucky about Tony. He hadn't meant to, but his friend seems to be willing to listen so he spills his gusts.

"I did. Repeatedly. I don't even know how many times I said I was sorry."

"That's not how an omega apologizes."

A shiver runs down his spine again. He looks up and watches Bucky breathing in and out with a cold and unconcerned expression on his face. He's still staring into space and Steve feels like being in the arms of a stranger.

"I'm not that kind of omega and you know it." He whispers.

"Okay." Bucky just says but he didn't sound like he was approving or even understanding. 

That night Steve makes a promise to himself and to Bucky. He will never fail the other omega again. Steve is determined, he will help him find his way back to himself. He already lost his alpha, he won't give up on his best friend now. 


	13. Enslaved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry I've been away for a while. I'm just too busy with work and real life but I haven't given this up.
> 
> So first I would like to say thank you for all your comments. You actually helped me a lot and I wrote the drafts for this chapter and the next in one go because your feedbacks boosted me up, I just never had the time to finish them properly. 
> 
> As for the story in itself, I admit I was very confused as to why so many people were bothered by Steve and Bucky having sex... I mean, it was in the tags... It was hardly a surprise...  
> Anyway, sorry if you don't like this story anymore, but I have it planned (in the basics) from the beginning. I just don't know how it ends... I heard your complaints though and I'll try to slow down the angst, a bit, if I can.
> 
> And I'm sorry I grazed a bit of our favorite sacrosanct Steve's perfection. I didn't know people would get so vindictive.  
> I love him, really, but it annoys me how everybody keeps pretending he's perfect. He's not. He makes mistakes, just like the rest of them. That doesn't mean he's not a good person either.  
> And the Steve in this story is just broken and as stubborn as always. You mustn't forget that he is living in a society and a world where he will always be considered as an inferior and it must be very difficult, and scary, to ever feel comfortable in a relationship in which you know you'll never be an equal. Give him some slack... ;-)
> 
> Anyway, beware for what's gonna happen next because the worst of it hasn't appeared yet...
> 
> (Should I add the cheating tag? It's a real question, I didn't put it up because, to me, in this context, in this ABO universe, it isn't really cheating. The dynamics between them is different and it's normal, sort of... even if for them it's more... but I could add it though...)

Steve kept his promise.

He came back, over and over and over. He came every fucking day during those three weeks Tony stayed at the hospital, whispering endless  _sorries_ in his ears, spitting his perfection to Tony's face.

 _Steve..._ with his golden hair and deep blue eyes. Perfect Steve, with his perfect smile and his cute dimples and his perfectly fake innocence. _Steve,_ who bent over for him for all those years. _Steve,_ who took his cock, his knot, his come... _his heart..._   _everything of him_ , only to break him and shatter all his pieces away.  _His_ Steve...

Was Steve ever his? Is Steve still his? Does Tony still want Steve to be his? He doesn't even know. All he knows is that Steve is poison. His one true weakness. Steve is the evil that destroys him and the cure too.

He wishes he could hate him. He wishes he could forget him, but every night Steve comes to haunt him in his dreams. Perfect, beautiful Steve, the face of betrayal. Every night, Tony can feel the power of the blond's wrath destroying him and the shiny sliver of a vibranium shield piercing through his arc reactor. And the light of death staining his blue eyes. Steve is his curse, his poison, his destruction. 

And everyday he wakes up, and Steve is there, all smiling and beautiful and true and loving, like his saving angel. A knight in shining armor, coming to sweep him away from the path to hell. Oh God, how much Tony loves him. He can't let him go. Steve is poison but Steve is cure. He is his sickness and his medicine, his drug, and Tony is already addicted. Every day he looks forward to hearing the steps he knows are his pacing the hallway. He can already feel him, in his heart, in his flesh, in his bones. The scent, so very sweet and addictive, is spreading everywhere in his room and makes him lose his mind. And already he misses him when he's gone.

He _cannot_ let him go. Ever.

"Steeeve." He whispers. His eyes are still closed and he doesn't really know where he is. He doesn't even know if he said it for real or if it was only in his head. "Steve." He repeats, louder, clearer and opens his eyes.

He's in his bed, in the Penthouse. And Steve is not here, hasn't been for a month. There are still remnants of his sweet omega scent here and there. An old hoodie, discarded on a chair, Tony hasn't touched it ever since he came back from the hospital. A glass of water and a book, next to his side of the bed. Steve rarely stayed over to sleep, but sometimes he did and Tony had kept all his things like relics in a mausoleum. An old file they had read together, still smelling of him. And his toothbrush, in the attending bathroom. 

Steve is not here and he will never be again. Steve has made his choice, he chose Barnes, his parents' murderer, and they're gone from his life, living their--whatever their relationship is-- together, away from Tony. Well, at least not in the Tower and that's already something.

Steve hasn't really chosen Barnes though, Tony chose for him. Steve was sitting next to his bed in the hospital room the last time he saw him, for real. He was saying those same despicable words again. _sorry. sorry. sorry..._ And Steve had tried to touch him, he had reached a hand to him, tried to press his forearm. He needed the contact, as much as Tony needed it. He could feel it, he could smell it and it made him nauseous. As soon as Steve's hand brushed his skin Tony flinched and glared at him, drawing his arm away. "Don't touch me." He spat and he saw Steve's face turn pale and distraught. A flash of pain ran through his beautiful blue eyes. "I don't want you live in the Tower anymore." He had said, "when I'm home tomorrow, I'll change the access codes."

And that was it.

Steve nodded in defeat. _You haven't forgiven me?_ His eyes were asking. No, I haven't. _Will you ever? I still need you. I'm nothing without you. I love you._ I love you too, Steve. You're the only one I ever loved.

Steve was silent but hoping, hoping Tony would come around, but Tony can't stand it. He feels like he's choking every time Steve is in the same room. 

Steve didn't come back the next day, and didn't come to the Tower. Tony supposed he stayed at the New Avengers Facility, with Barnes.

The thing is, Tony feels like he's choking even when Steve is not in the room. Actually, living without Steve is impossible. It's not a life. It's surviving.

Tony gets up. He doesn't want to, but he has to, and he feels like he's drowning in his bed anyway. What time is it? It's dark outside but he isn't sure if it's late or early. He hasn't been following a schedule ever since he got back, ever since Steve is not here to regulate him.

He goes down to the common room. Maybe he'll have some company. Only Romanoff, and Barton when he's on missions with Nat, still live in the Tower. Bruce is hiding away and the others are at the compound. Pepper left a few months ago to live with Happy. 

It's late. Around 7PM. Clint and Natasha are on the couch, watching TV, each with a smoking bowl of miso soup in their hand. Clint gives him a silent "hey" and smiles tentatively. He doesn't have a clue as to how Tony is feeling right now. He can never understand, but he tries to be nice and show some support anyway. Natasha knows, and she gives him an embarrassed look. She's sorry. Very sorry for him, but also sorry that she was the one who sent Tony to Siberia. If she hadn't insisted, Tony would have passed out drunk on his couch and Steve would have left with Barnes and Tony would have never met his parents' murderer. Hell, he wouldn't even know his parents were murdered in the first place.

Tony scratches his belly and heads for the kitchen. He doesn't really care that he's actually wearing pajama pants and a Captain America shirt, much too big for him. He stares for a minute in front of the open fridge, trying to remember why he came to the fridge in the first place. He rubs his hand up and down his abandoned goatee, which not a goatee anymore just wild beard hairs, then finally decides that he's thirsty. He grabs the milk and opens the lid.

"Captain Rogers is in the lobby, Sir. He's asking for permission to come up."

Tony startles and spills milk all over himself. "What the Fuck J!" He wipes his hands on his stained shirt. "Fuck!"

"What should I say to the Captain, Sir?"

"No."

"He's very insisting, Sir."

"No."

He feels a soft hand sneak into his and press it with a gentle gesture. Natasha, like a swift cat, is already on his side and nods to him with a shy smile on her face. "Give him a chance" She says- whispers- mouthes- Tony isn't sure.

Tony nods to her or Jarvis, or both, and the elevator's doors open. Already? Jarvis is as much of a traitor as the rest of them. 

Steve paces silently inside. His expression is blank but his eyes are full of sorrows. He's wearing the Captain America suit, and he's handsome, so handsome. Tony should be scared, the last time he saw the suit he was about to die, and yet he isn't. He knows Steve would never hurt him. Steve is his omega, and he his Steve's alpha. It is so obvious now, even though it's not that simple. Tony knew he was his omega before, but does he want to be? This is the real question. Does he want to be or is he enduring it because he can't do otherwise? This is the kind of things Tony wonders about now. He never even thought about it before.

The omega smell already invades the room and almost knocks him out. Steve's posture is straight and righteous, his figure imposing and Tony wants him on his knees. He _needs_ him on his knees, urgently, or on all fours, his choice.

Of course he knows this will never happen.

Steve's baby blues lock into his eyes and never let go. He can see so many things in those eyes. He can feel them too. How come he can feel so much of Steve's feelings and emotions now that they're separate. How come he never noticed before how deeply connected they were, _are -_ still are. 

His hands shake a little and he remembers he's still holding the carton of milk in his hand and he feels a little bit self-conscious suddenly. Only for a short moment though, because Steve's presence riles him up and the anger comes back fast.

"Why are you here?" He spits.

Steve reacts as if Tony just spat on his face for real.

"You said your door would always be open for me once, and that you'll be there if I need you, always." Tony raises an eyebrow. He did. He said that. "I want you back."

 _Me too_. 

Tony walks slowly to him and reaches a hand to his face. He can't stop himself, he needs the contact. He cups his jaw and Steve leans into the touch with a long sigh, almost like a purr, a mix of relief and desire. Tony slides his hand along Steve’s neck, unbuckle the collar of the uniform and slips his fingers under it, unconsciously reaching for Steve’s bonding gland. It’s burning and pulsating and calling for him, at least, that’s how he feels for a short moment. 

And the next thing he knows, just seconds later, or maybe it was hours or days, Tony isn't sure as for him, time has stopped and he has found himself floating in the air, among the stars or in between universes maybe. He doesn't really know if he is even alive or dead, asleep or awake, for the sight before him is the most beautiful and hypnotizing he's ever seen and his heart has stopped, definitely stopped for a minute or a year.

It's the sounds of surprise and confusion that Clint made that brought him back to reality.

Steve, kind and innocent Steve. Beautiful Steve. Poisonous Steve.  _Everything_ Steve. Steve -- _Captain America--_  has slowly dropped on his knees, before him and is bowing his head, hands behind his back, _submitting._

 _Steve is submitting. To him. In front of their friends, and_ _teammates._ And it's the most beautiful thing Tony has ever seen. His heart stops before it starts racing, his hands shake and Tony presses the carton of milk to steady himself, tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. 

He's in his pajamas, covered in milk with bed hair and bags under his eyes and Steve, so perfectly beautiful Steve, is submitting to him, _really_ submitting like an omega should. Steve is offering himself, giving his submission freely and wholeheartedly, for the first time. 

The omega is talking endlessly or maybe he was and Tony is only remembering. Words are floating around him, vague, distant and unimportant. Sorries, again, as if it was the only word that Tony had heard him say in years. _Steve is on his knees_. 

Tony is very hard in his pants and has no underwear and he ignores Clint giggling far away because none of it is important. He doesn't even want to have sex now. This is just physical, an automatic response to Steve. Steve always makes him hard, what can he say? He won't act on it, not now anyway. Everything around them is all solemn and sacred and beautiful, and this is just the end of him. 

Or maybe it's not.

Maybe it's none of those things... _because even though Steve is submitting to him, he's not doing it_ for _him._

 

"Are you for _real_?" Tony hears himself shouting.

"Please, Tony." How many times did he hear those words from this mouth? How many times were they whined or slurred or whispered in his ears? Now they are plaintive and desperate.

"I am _not_ hosting my parents' murderer in my house."

"You won't." Steve hurries to say. "He'll stay on my floor. I'll take care of him." _Of course you will._

"Steve--" Tony starts. He is not sure what to say. He searches in the blue of Steve's eyes for something, some explanation, some hope... maybe for some love. He's already defeated anyway. He's never been able to refuse Steve anything and he's already accepted that hard truth about himself.

"If you don't take him in, they will lock him up." Steve begs. 

"Good."

"No, you don't understand. He needs my help. He's... Please Tony. They won't let him leave the premises unless he's under the guardianship of an alpha. Just give him a chance. It's not his fault."

Tony can't even believe that he's having this conversation. "He tried to kill me." He exclaims, stating the obvious. No-one in their right mind would ever lodge the person who slaughtered their family and tried to murder you by choice. But then again, Tony isn't really in a sane state of mind, has he ever been sane in Steve's presence? He already knows this argument is lost, so why keep struggling.

"He was just defending himself, he won't harm you, I swear. He's not dangerous."

"Fury seems to think differently."

"Fury's just obeying orders. Only because a bunch of shrinks decided he was mentally unstable."

"Wow. You want me to accommodate some super-soldier assassin, an actual mentally unstable assassin, who killed my parents and tried to kill me? Are you kidding me?"

"He's not unstable. He's lost. They don't understand. They're not omega. You do. Please Tony. He needs you. You know you're powerful enough to handle him."

As if poking at his ego would make him bend the knee. Steve, you manipulative bitch! Okay yeah, it works. Yeah.

Tony laughs bitterly. "Just like I was able to handle you, you mean?" He snaps sarcastically.

Tony doesn't even have enough in him to be hurt or even disappointed. He knew it wasn't real, but even if he knew, it's still heart-rending. Steve's choices and betrayal have killed him already, slowly and insidiously, and he's past being angry by now. He's just feeling sad and numb. He's not even angry with Barnes anymore. Steve was right, like always. He's glad he didn't kill him. Barnes was just a tool and Tony was always fond of them. What's the point of hating Barnes? Barnes doesn't care. Barnes probably doesn't even remember. Barnes isn't the one who chose their best friend over their alpha. Tony's hatred for Barnes would only plague himself. Barnes is just some fucking tool who's been used, and probably abused, for decades. It would be too easy to blame him for his parents' death, or even for Steve's betrayal. He won't give him the honor and the satisfaction of hating him. Barnes is nothing to him and inspires him only contempt, pity at best. If Steve wants to have his toy to play mother-hen, so be it. Why would he care?

 

Tony throws himself on his bed, the bed he got up from only two hours ago. This whole thing just made him lose his appetite, and frankly, it's giving him a headache. He buries his head in a pillow. He wants to scream but no sound whatsoever comes out of his mouth. 

It's only been a few minutes when he smells the omega's presence. Steve's scared and angry and confused. Tony can feel all of his emotions, most of them at least. Then, he hears the doors and the steps. "Jarvis, traitor." He complains, voice muffled in the pillows. The super-soldier has the decency to knock at least but he doesn't wait for Tony's answer to come inside the bedroom.

Tony doesn't turn to him, he keeps hiding in his bed. "What do you want?"

"I told you already. I want you." comes the reply. His voice is deep, steady and determined, very Captain America-like.

"I already said 'yes' for you and your bestie to move into the Tower. You don't have to pretend anymore."

Tony doesn't see Steve, he's still buried in the pillows, but he can smell it, the distress, the growing fear and anguish and self-hatred. He can almost hear him shiver and feel his lips tremble. It all goes straight to his heart and Tony leaps on his bed as if he had been bitten by a bug and turns to him.

Captain America in all his glory is standing still in front of him, tall and proud. He's standing straight and motionless but Tony can see through it. He can see how his knees are about to wobble and how he's gritting his teeth to prevent them from shaking and he can see the guilt and sorrow corrupting the innocent blue of his eyes.

"I'm not pretending." He chokes out and Tony jumps off the bed and walks to him. He remains a few feet away though, he's not trusting himself around Steve. Not like this.

"You have no business here. We broke up remember? That's how things go between an unbonded pair. When we don't get along anymore, we go our way, separately. That's it."

"I never broke up with you." Steve spits with flames of anger in his eyes.

"Well, I did. Now fuck off." Tony swirls on his feet and turns his back to Steve. 

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?"

He peeks behind him to look at his former lover, the only omega he ever called his, the one who was supposed to be his mate and broke his heart repeatedly. 

"No."

Steve unbuckles his uniform and slowly, button after button, he takes it off in front of a dumbfounded Tony until he's standing completely naked before him. And the only thing Tony is capable of is staring at him confusedly, mouth gaping. 

"What are you doing?"

Steve doesn't answer. He only settles for standing straight, legs spread and hands behind his back. He's looking straight ahead, right into Tony's eyes. Something pools inside Tony and turns his body on fire. Maybe rage, maybe desire, maybe both. His whole body is shaking and his heart is racing like crazy. 

He runs to the omega and plants himself inches away from him. Steve doesn't flinch but his whole body vibrates and his breathing accelerates. He pinches and bites his lips so he wouldn't let an embarrassing moan escape his mouth but Tony knows him all too well. He's already blushing from head to toe and the proximity and warmth of Tony's body makes him hot and bothered and hard. And motherfucking hell, that's _hot._ Although, Tony's not really in the right mood now. Steve's body is crying _take me_ and his eyes are begging _do whatever you want with me_ , and his mouth doesn't say it but Tony can smell it, feel it in his bones. Steve would do whatever it takes to earn his forgiveness.

Fucking untamed omega.

Steve won't back out. And Tony is fucking weak. "You know the only thing I wanna do to you right now is slap you on the face." Tony snarls through gritted teeth.

 _Do it._ The omega replies. He doesn't say it but Tony understands it all the same. Steve's eyes are fearlessly provoking. 

Steve forces his head still, he's preparing for the blow but Tony won't hit him. He grabs a handful of his hair and pulls his head slightly down to stare into his eyes. "You know this is an affront that no alpha would tolerate." Steve doesn't move but he might as well have nodded and Tony can read the regrets in his apologetic eyes. "If this is punishment you're after, then punishment you shall have."

He tugs a little and growls at Steve's face. "On your knees, omega." A shiver runs through the omega's body before he drops on his knees instantly. He's burning hot and scarlet red but he does as he's told. "Lick my feet." 

Steve crawls to Tony's feet and starts licking slowly, hands still joined behind his back. 

It could have been hot, maybe, in other circumstances, but right now, it's everything but hot. Right now, it's only disturbing and shaming. Right now the only thing Tony can see is Steve's teary eyes, the despair in them, the devastated look he had on his face the day Tony had broken up with him and his voice all shaky and broken. He failed his omega that day. Steve had trusted him and looked up to him, and he had failed him, betrayed that trust. At that time, Tony was his only anchor to this world and he let him go. He abandoned him. _His_ omega. And for that past month, Steve has more than proven himself to him. So yeah Steve won't submit to him, he won't accept to be marked and bonded. He's not that kind of omega, but he's here and he's genuinely sorry and he wants Tony. And may God --or whatever there is up there, or not-- forgive him but Tony wants him too.

"Stop."

Steve stops but remains in the same position. "I don't wanna do this, Steve." Tony sighs and runs his thumb softly on Steve's cheek as the man raises his head and gets up. He waits until Steve is standing up again and stares into his eyes. "I'm not like that. I'm not interested in punishing you."

Tony walks away to the bed and sits on it. Steve's sad and confused blue eyes follow him and wait expectantly. When Tony doesn't say anything, he bends down to pick up his clothes from the floor. "Just come to the bed, will you?"

Steve hesitantly joins Tony on the bed and quietly lies down on it. Tony spread his arm so Steve can rest his head on his shoulder and wraps his arm around him. The omega is completely naked, burning hot and still half-hard despite the not-very-arousing situation from before, shivering in his arms. And for the first time, Tony doesn't do anything about it. 

They stay like this for a while until Tony finally says. "I accept your apology." 

Steve says nothing. He doesn't even move an inch from Tony's embrace, but Tony hears him say thank you nevertheless. He can sense the omega's distress evaporating. He can smell Steve's fears and sorrows ebbing away. He can feel the huge weight in his own chest he didn't even know he had disappear slowly. Steve's scent smells good and sweet and delicious again and he can feel the omega appease, cuddled in his arms. Who said only omegas are slaves to their alphas? Tony is as much enslaved as any bonded omega.

He's screwed.   

He's undoubtedly and utterly screwed.


	14. Screwing or screwed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone,
> 
> A new chapter before I have to take another long pause. I hope you enjoyed the last one, it was a bit angsty I know. This one is shorter but lighter. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> I'm a bit excited because the story is finally starting. Everything I wrote before was supposed to introduce the characters and their relationships... I guess I got carried away a little. It turned out a little more complicated than I first intended, it might change a bit what I had planned originally. We'll see how all of this evolves...

Tony is screwed. 

He's been screwed ever since he met Steve. He's a slave to his instincts, unable to resist him and literally lives to see a smile on Steve's face. The omega is twisting him around his little finger and he can't do anything about it. He doesn't want to anyway.

The first time he met Steve, he made a fool of himself. He had felt his arousal long before he saw him and was vanquished and overpowered by the lust in his eyes and lost control. The second time he felt and saw desire in Steve's eyes, he couldn't help himself either. He had to push him down on all four and fuck him like an animal on the hard floor of the training room, and Steve was pretending he didn't want it, as always. As if... The third time, Tony had tried, really tried, to resist. He didn't want to be that alpha. He wanted to keep himself in control, to master his desires, to dominate his urges. And Steve had fires in his eyes, wild blown pupils calling for him, begging. His body vibrated and purred and he had moaned and rutted against the wall, slick, pliant and offered, untamed but eager, wild but submissive, so very erotically dishonest. How could Tony resist that? He was only human after all, and alpha, and a slave to his needs and urges. _Fuck. his. life._

It's amazing though how everything is so much more intense when you have a mate. So yeah, okay, Tony doesn't really have a mate, like a real bonded mate but he can still feel Steve and every emotion of his in affecting Tony and when Steve is smiling, Tony lives in bliss. When Steve is sated, Tony wants to roll around on the floor, all proud and self-satisfied. When Steve orgasms, it's cosmic and it sends Tony to another dimension. Everything is better when you have a mate but when it's bad, it's worse too.

Steve fell asleep in his arms yesterday, finally appeased and comforted, and Tony dozed off, ignoring the major hard-on in his pants. And when he woke up in the middle of the night, Steve was still there and naked, surrounding him with his strong arms. There's something rewarding about having a heavier, taller and stronger omega. Tony loves when Steve is all cuddly and protective with him. He fucked him then and there. He gave in to his urges, his rage, his unforgotten pain and took it out on Steve. And Steve wasn't even pretending he didn't like it. He cried out and panted like a bitch until they both came, urgently and desperately, and then he knotted him. He hadn't really planned to, but then Steve had brought a strong hand to his hip and grabbed him fiercely to keep him in place, where he belonged, inside of him. 

Usually Steve leaves after they do it but yesterday he stayed and slept in Tony's bed. And when Tony woke up again, he fucked Steve like an animal, following his instincts, you can't ask too much of him when he's half-asleep. And then again, and again. Once more, early this morning. Steve never left. He stayed and begged for more, silently begged, but Tony could sense it. He could feel it so vividly it was as clear as if he heard it distinctly from his mouth. Steve didn't leave Tony's bed before he had to. 

Now, Tony is awake and can't help the stupidly happy grin on his face. Yeah, Steve has that effect on him. He can still feel the warmth of his mate next to him on the mattress. He can distinguish his shape in the sheets and his bed --his whole room-- still smells like a very aroused and completely ecstatic omega. Tony is a little proud of himself he admits, but mainly, he's screwed. 

He steadies himself slowly and settles comfortably in the cushions. He can stay in bed a little bit more, he almost died a month ago. Give him a break!

"J? Call Fury please."

Soon he heard the tone and Fury picked up immediately.

"What is this shit about?" Tony starts before Fury even got the chance to open his mouth.

He hears the man sigh in exasperation. "Stark." 

"Explain to me why exactly I have to take in an assassin?"

"Captain Rogers insisted. I thought you agreed?" Fury said, unimpressed. 

"My decision is null. I was compelled and forced." Tony answered, only half-sarcastically. 

"Really?" Fury retorts, very unconvinced, and Tony could almost see him raise his eyebrow.

"Am I ever joking about this kind of things?" Tony asks just a little bit offended. 

"Then you sort it out with Rogers. I'm done with this."

"The fuck? What am I supposed to do with him?"

"He's under your supervision and your responsibility from now on."

"What?"

"You heard me. Barnes is your problem now."

"And you're completely fine with having a mentally unstable killer on the loose?"

"Believe me, Stark, I'm as overjoyed about this as you are. But you know how things are. Important people. Connections. Strings were pulled. Your kind likes to deal with their own on their own terms."

"What does that even mean?"

"Ancient legislation that, believe it or not, is still active and enforced. Omegas aren't legislatively considered as responsible citizens and therefore, alphas can demand to deal with their omegas themselves and punish them how they fit for whatever crimes they committed."

"Are you kidding me? Since when?"

"Since always, except nobody knew about it and nobody used that right for decades, maybe even centuries. But Rogers is a determined motherfucker."

"So tell me, on a scale from one to ten, just how screwed I am?"

"On the legal aspect, omega or not, Barnes is not responsible for his crimes but in my opinion, he belongs in a secure mental institute. From what we heard from him and what we know for a fact, he's been trained to kill, tortured, brainwashed and conditioned to obey orders without asking questions. His memory has been wiped out repeatedly. They used drugs and medicines to annihilate everything omega about him. He hasn't been omega for years. We're still unsure how this will work out but we'll monitor him to see how it goes. For the rest, he's yours."

"Is he dangerous?"

"He's potentially dangerous. We're not sure exactly what triggers him. We know a list of words was involved but we don't know how he will react to it in his current state. He's confused about his identity and has only recovered bits of memory. He's not aggressive, but he has little empathy and I'm convinced he will not hesitate to kill if he's in danger. Cap seems persuaded this is a transitory state. I hope so."

A shiver runs down his spine. How could he be that stupid? _Barnes is gonna slaughter him in his sleep_.

"From what you heard from him?" 

"Barnes's been interrogated for weeks. Those omegas are strong-willed fuckers. You can't get a word out of their mouth."

"Fury. I'm nothing without my armor. How am I supposed to deal with him?" 

"You should have thought about it before agreeing, but I'm sure you're powerful enough to tame him. Or so I've been told." Fury snarked and Tony is sure he heard him smirk. 

 _What the fuck?_ "What does--?" 

"You handled Rogers. You'll handle Barnes."

"This is not the same th--"

"You alphas and omegas are a real pain in my ass. You wanted Barnes, you got Barnes. Now you deal with it!"

Fuck his life.   _He's screwed_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Any kind of feedback, good or bad is truly appreciated.


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